


Where I end and you begin - The Day Tripper

by Human_Being



Series: Where I end and you begin [2]
Category: Ranma 1/2
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 51,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Human_Being/pseuds/Human_Being
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale of how Ryoga Hibiki had always gotten lost to the lies he told to himself. - Yaoi fic, angst, Ryoga-centric (POV). Prequel and Sidestory of Where I end and you begin - The Midnight Cowboy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lifeline

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 does not belong to me. It´s Takahashi-sama's
> 
> Warning: This is a yaoi fic, thus has rather explicit content and situations, strong language and male/male interaction. Also, this is a rather angsty fic, so don't expect much of the usual comedy from the canon.  
> If you feel offended, you can always hit the "back" button.
> 
>  
> 
> This fic is a prequel and a sidestory to Where I end and you begin (The Midnight Cowboy).
> 
> The title comes from "Where I end and you begin" from Radiohead.
> 
> Then, on with the show.

 

 

* * *

** Lifeline **

* * *

"Nothing will not be more electric to me  
than to give you a taste of the love that I hide  
In my condition I'm totally lost  
Tell me what have you done with my pride?"

_Save me now – Andru McDonalds/Erick F. White_

_…_   


_~Unryuu’s Sumo Wrestling Pigs Dojo._

Ryoga Hibiki was watching the practice of the Sumo Pigs, with Akari by his side.

“They are getting really good, aren’t they, dear?”  The soft voice of his girlfriend – much more like steady, really – interrupted the attention he was paying on their exercise. “It’s so good to see how good you are helping them to be.”

 _“Yeah, yeah; a thrill”._ A distant part of Ryoga’s shot back, but the thought never reached his mouth. She was his Akari, the woman he chose to devote his life to – and no one could say it wasn’t working, right?

“ _It’ll work until she asks you to turn into the damn pig to better train them yet again. Then the fun will reeeeally begin…”_

“They are, dear.” He brushed the sardonic line off his head as turned to face the petite girl; her big brown eyes facing his own. She was happy, and nothing made him happier than see her happy as well.

“ _Except training pigs. That would be the highlight of my day anytime, huh-huh”._ Again, the thought was strangled at birth. However, the discomfort lingered, and he stood up to seek something else to occupy his thoughts on.

“Where are you going?” Her soft voice asked, a bit of strangeness on the otherwise innocent tone. “They aren’t finished yet, are they?”

“I have some homework to do.” He gave her a peck on her cheek. “Have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Oh, okay!” She beamed, smiling back at him. Always smiling, loving, and cheering him up. He didn’t deserve that much, really.

Then why the stupid voice in his head, this one scolding the pigs – and her too, at some extent - didn’t shut the hell up?

Sure, he did _not_ like pigs. Not that he hated them – now it felt on him like a begrudgingly pacific coexistence, actually – but he couldn’t bring himself to share with his girl the fierce love she had for them; no matter how hard he tried.  

Or maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t trying hard enough.

Lost in his thoughts about Akari and the pigs and the farm and his life, he found himself walking through the barn, already out of the house where he was supposed to find his room. “ _Shit_ ”, he thought as he turned back to see where he should’ve been going if his sense of direction wasn’t the wreck it was. A very familiar sense of dread filled him, building up the fear of wandering away from his love, his present life, everything he had now. He hated, he just hated how his sense of direction often remembered him of how utterly useless he was. Hell, he couldn’t even wander away from her house and take a walk, let alone…

He clenched his fists, trying to steady himself and follow the straight line to the house, reaching the wall and touching it with his fingers while he walked around the sides to get to the front door. “ _Like a blind man would do_ ”, he thought while considering that was actually a very fit comparison, since his eyes and the sense of direction of his own certainly were worse than lack of sight. The faint humorless smile on his face, brought by the memory of his former acquaintance Mousse, disappeared as he saw his body impelling himself straight forward, away from the wall he was supposed to follow and away from the turn to the right he was supposed to take and get to the front door.

“You can’t get lost, moron” He muttered to himself, taking steps back to touch the side wall of the house again. “You just can’t afford to get lost this time.” His hands reached its goal, and he emptied his mind while walking to the front door again.

He opened the door. “ _Go upstairs. Through the hall, turn left and it’s the brown door to your right_ ”. He reached the handrail with his left hand, and slowly walked one step of the stairs after another. In the hall, however, the oh-so-familiar sense of despair filled him again as he couldn’t tell right from left, but then his left hand reached the wall without his conscious will. And after some other steps touching the wall, he _could_ tell left from right. A few steps after and the brown door of his room was just before his eyes, and he sighed in relief.

The relief was short lived, though. He sat in his bed, yanking away his bandanna and entwining his fingers on his bangs, resting his forehead on both his palms. The sense of dread came back with friends: Despair and self-loathing. How the hell was he supposed to live a normal life – like everyone else – if he couldn’t bring himself to find the right path to the very room he was living at currently? How he could expect, his love, to put up with someone like him, who could very well be gone missing at the moment he’d get out for a walk? How to compare his nuisance toward pigs to put up with someone who turned a pig himself? There he was – cursed to be a pig when wet in cold water, and unable even to attend school as any regular boy of his age without being guided there by Akari…

His books were lying on his desk, with the charts he was supposed to fill in and send to school. And he was behind schedule already, wasn’t he?

“Ryoga dear?” Akari’s voice rang in his ears, and he tilted his head to meet her eyes. “You took a little while to get here…”

He winced, disgust plain on his face; but she smiled and sat by his side, her fingers touching his hair in a soothing manner. As she turned herself to him, he rested his head on her shoulders, letting himself go in the sensation of her caresses in his hair. “It’s okay, dear”, she soothed him, “there’s no problem.” She kissed his forehead, then the bridge of his nose; he reached her lips with his own and let himself go in her kiss. She loved him, she said she did, she loved _him_ despite everything; getting lost all the time, cursed piglet and all. She was there to save him, she would be there for him, like no one ever was. Neither Akane, nor his other friends (“ _friends?_ ”), not even his parents…

He was lucky, that’s what he was: Even as lost as he always had been, he found her. Actually, _she_ found _him_. She loved him! And it was worth any sacrifice of his part to keep that, to keep her…

“It’s okay, my dear…” She breathed as they parted the kiss, a bit chaste one for a teenage couple; his face cupped on her hands while he kept his eyes shut and submitted to her will, as tame as he was expected to be. “Don’t you worry, Ryoga, I don’t mind...”

“ _But I do_ ”.

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

This fic is actually a sequel and a sidestory to  **Where I end and you begin - The Midnight Cowboy**. It is Ryoga-centric and in his POV, but it won't be narrated the same way as his sister fic. However, they're supposed to be read together, since after a while both of them will show the same sequence of events, but from different points of view.

* * *

Human Being, 01/19/2014

 

 


	2. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 does not belong to me. It´s Takahashi-sama's
> 
> Warning: This is a yaoi fic, thus has rather explicit content and situations, strong language and male/male interaction. Also, this is a rather angsty fic, so don't expect much of the usual comedy from the canon.  
> If you feel offended, you can always hit the "back" button.
> 
>  
> 
> This fic is a prequel and a sidestory to Where I end and you begin (The Midnight Cowboy).
> 
> The title comes from "Where I end and you begin" from Radiohead.
> 
> Then, on with the show.

 

* * *

**Escape**

* * *

 

"I cannot put my finger on it now  
The child is grown, the dream is gone  
And I have become comfortably numb"  
 _Comfortably numb – Pink Floyd(Roger Waters/David Gilmour)_  


 

_…_

One thing Ryoga couldn't deny at all: Winter in that place  _was_  beautiful.

Not that it had to do with the little 'break' the sumo pigs used to have in that cold weather, even though it was very good – terrific, really. Despite the good workout their training was to him, sometimes he got really fond of training on his own – improve speed and balance, not just strength.

Moreover, at winter he felt more comfortable with life indoors, something he wasn't very used to before staying at one same place for such a long time. It felt nice to go to the yard, admire the landscapes, see a bit of snow here and there, then go back to his room to study a little more and think about life a little. That sense of calm and stillness was best for his impaired directional sense. Amidst the lull, he could focus and empty his mind, and in the point blank it turned to be way easier to guide himself on the right path. Or close enough.

The catching up to what he lost on school was going more smoothly than he originally thought to be. Of course he would always find math, algebra, trigonometry and logarithms hard as hell, to the point he thought he would never master it enough for pre-tests to a college; but he could live with that since his life would belong here, with Akari.

However, though, something kept nagging on the back of his head, a constant reminder that his resolve on staying wasn't exactly he'd wanted to stay, but because didn't feel like there was a choice. But in winter, close to holidays and vacations, the pressure of those thoughts was not so hard to cope with. It was easier to silence that part of him which kept whispering unpleasant things on his head, wanting to wander away for the wild, for the landscapes imprinted on his memories, burned on his brain like the light burns an image on a photo negative; that part which, if heard, would get him lost despite his better judgment.

Besides… How was he supposed to live without his Akari? She had this thing, an ability to bring the best out of him and knowing best what to do, what was best for him because she was so awesome, cared so much for him… At times like these, he would hold her close, she would hold him back and kiss and caress him lovingly. And the whole idea of living a settled life in the country by her side seemed so enticing he couldn't think of anything else.

He loved her, and that was worth anything.

_"Anything?"_

Yes, anything. Nothing is more important than love, really.

" _Is this love? Really love? Then… where is the thrill? The rush of blood into the heart you don't feel even when you kiss her? The overwhelming feeling of losing the floor beneath my feet I used to feel when I saw Akane?"_

He killed these ideas on the nest of his mind. He knew, by then, what he felt for Akane wasn't love, it was infatuation. He idealized and idolized Akane Tendo, and tended to see in her something as far from reality as what she saw on him when playing P-chan.

_"But the feels you had for her were real, even as a pig. You loved her."_

Not actually, he rationalized. He loved an idea of Akane that might as well never come true. Besides, Akane loves Ranma, not him. What was the point to stick and suffer her rejection one more time? But Akari… She loved him, and he loved her.

_"You_ need _her."_

No, there's no need in that, he argued with himself again. Why couldn't he enjoy a girl who knitted him sweaters, cooked him treats, guided him into being a better man?

_"Is she letting you be yourself?"_

Ryoga gritted his teeth, recoiling himself on his winter jacket to seek a warmth he suddenly lost. He breathed, letting the air in and out, trying to ease his mind and stop the inner argument with that nasty ungrateful part of himself.

"I don't want to be alone again", he said steadily, while watching Akari entering the main gate of the farm. She walked towards him, and then headed to the house. Inside he swayed her in his arms, seeking a kiss on his own. More demanding than it used to be, the kind of kiss that used to give him nosebleeds and all; but not anymore. Now he was used to it, used to _her_ – She felt good in his arms, warmth against the winter chill as her arms enveloped him while she kissed him back.

"I don't want to be lost again", he breathed, as he saw her eyes opening slowly after they broke the kiss, a silent promise she would not let it happen. He pressed her close, kissing her again, seeking the rush of thrill he should feel for her. It wasn't there, but the pleasure of physical stimulation mingled with her presence, so familiar by now.

Yes… He  _needed_  her.

It felt comfortable.

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

In one or two days you'll have another chapter, because this one will 'speed up' to catch the sequence of events that will be shown on the other fic.

And yes, there's a heavy load of headcanon here, especially about Ryoga's emotional frailty and his directional issues. So, folks, stay tuned.

* * *

Human Being, 01/22/2014


	3. Struggle

 

* * *

**Struggle**

* * *

"She looks like the real thing  
She tastes like the real thing  
My fake plastic love  
But I can't help the feeling  
I could blow through the ceiling if I just turn and run  
It wears me out, it wears me out  
If I could be who you wanted  
If I could be who you wanted all the time"  
 _Fake Plastic Trees - Radiohead  
…_  


Summer was a rather heavy period in the Unryuu household. The training of the sumo pigs was at its peak after summer vacations – a time where school was also demanding enough by itself.

And Ryoga Hibiki was starting to feel the heat.

Actually, the pressure was starting to hit him fair and square in his face.

The main reason, believe it or not, was school. At his home, as expected in other more 'traditional' places, he would have to primarily comply with school and then to any other activity. At least, that was his father's say about it at the few times they shared the same home at the same time. But there, in the Unryuu household, he was expected to do the exact opposite.

Of course there was a time he, away from his parents, thought leaving school to go chase Ranma all the way to China would be a good idea; so it would be expected he'd like to "slack off" at school to keep up with the martial training, but that was hardly the case now. He didn't want to forsake school to train sumo pigs. Not only because he didn't have the hots for that (which he hadn't at all), but mostly because he actually enjoyed school. That was a place where he'd put his own efforts on his own thing and not on someone else's dream; even if this 'someone else' happened to be Akari's beloved grandfather. And his efforts were paying off: not only he made up for what he lost, but he was getting rather good grades. People were taking him as a rather smart guy, and God knew he wasn't called that very often.

Yes, he surely could understand how easily people saw him as a twit who couldn't find his way from his room to the front door. How many times he was said that on his face? He wouldn't care to count. But now… As he had settled at the same place for the longest while in his recent past, he was maybe for the first time on his life focused on clearing his mind to find his way without wander too much from it.

And he was succeeding.

It seemed the key really was this – empty his mind of everything else to  _calmly_  focus only the path. He realized he got lost mostly because he used to mess up right and left, north and south; as ridiculous as it sounded for someone who practiced the Art for his entire life. It was a matter of sheer directional sense, either ill-born or ill-learned; and he could correct it if he gave it enough attention.

The point was that to him, 'enough attention' had to be  _all_  his attention, like a 'make or break' deal, and not let other thoughts and emotions getting in between.

It certainly rang a bell: Ever since he was a little kid, he used to keep a lot of things on his mind – grudges, vendettas, imagined witty replies to offensive comments; and while machinating his thoughts he was quick to lose his path – big time. Once lost, fear, dread and despair would push him out of control – inheritance of the original despair he felt at the first times he got lost or away from his parents as a little kid – and the calm and concentration required to not get lost would be completely out of his reach, even when he was alone in the woods. Once alone, he would sulk and mop and despair over his fate; then either explode or get depressed in a downward spiral of mood swings that kept him wandering away. Only if – and when - he calmed enough he would get himself back on track.

Of course, keeping himself from getting lost was extremely hard, but now it was  _possible_  – a concept he'd never entertained in his whole life.

But… Depression and mood swings were  _him_. How could he be cool, steady and calm? He didn't even know how it felt like. Moreover, keeping up with school, Akari, the farm and the pigs didn't help him get any calmer because it was clearly proving to be too much. Then the downward spiral of misery, loathing and depression he knew so well would build up in no time, and he'd end up lost, miserable and clinging even more to whatever Akari had to offer to him.

The voice in the back of his head, which used to whisper his incipient dismay, was screaming now; saying he'd rather get lost in the South Pole than hanging around those darned pigs any longer. It was shouting loudly why the fuck was he pushing himself that hard at some damned school if he wanted his life to be all about marrying the chick and raise fighting pigs. Snarling at him that his father, if and when he learned about this new adventure of his, would flay him alive in his cursed form and it would serve him right…

…Accusing him of giving himself away to turn into Mr. Unryuu's version of the man who would deserve Akari.

At first he tried to ignore it, then reason back saying he loved Akari, just to hear a humorless laugh on the back of his head. " _You love her, you love her, you love her, but if she loves you back… Those pigs wouldn't matter that much, she could at least consider giving your choices a go, right? Now, does she? Does she, Hibiki?"_

But she loved him. He argued back that in her way, she loved him, when nobody else did.

_"She loves you as long as you play along her grandpa's expectations of you. Have you ever considered how the old man rules the lives of both of you?"_

But he felt loved by her! That love, be it what it was, was addressed to him. And it was good. It was better than being alone, lost on his long journey of a winter of solitude.

" _Ok, look. You know you don't need to be_   _lost and alone anymore. And no one is saying you have to leave her. But you_ do _need a break. Wander a little in the woods on the spring vacations, plan a training trip, and let the pigs be damned. Then you come back, you always do, eventually. She loves you, right? She won't mind that much."_

He was terrified. Afraid he'd wander away and lose everything he had now, but knowing the voice – a part of himself he couldn't ignore anymore – was right.

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

Here's the other chapter I promised. In one or two days you'll have another one.

And yes, there's a heavy load of headcanon here, especially about Ryoga's emotional frailty and his directional issues. So, folks, stay tuned.

* * *

Human Being, 01/23/2014

 


	4. Acceptance

 

* * *

**Acceptance**

* * *

"Just because I'm losing doesn't mean I'm lost  
Doesn't mean I'll stop  
Doesn't mean I'm across

Just because I'm hurting doesn't mean I'm hurt  
Doesn't mean I didn't get what I deserved  
No better and no worse

I just got lost!  
Every river that I tried to cross  
Every door I ever tried was locked  
And I'm just waiting 'til the shine wears off"  
 _Lost? – Coldplay_  


_…_

He was in the woods again, lying on the grass watching the night sky full of stars with his tent aside; his gas lamp making it glow like a yellow bubble among the trees.

A scene he knew so well, but that he was living now in a different perspective.

Before, wilderness and nature were constant reminders of how far he got from his home and from every idea he ever had of happiness and security. And he hated it. He hated to be always away from everyone he ever knew, he hated to be alone, on his own. Then he got angry. Alone and angry.

That's why he used to hate loneliness.

Now that he was there, alone again, he realized how much he missed it.

Yes, he missed the peace of mind the isolation could bring him sometimes. He perceived the missed opportunities le lost while resenting, sulking and suffering for his ever claimed unfairness of life.

But he never really gave a good thought on why he wandered off so easily.

He used to think, like everybody else, that it was from sheer stupidity of his bad sense of direction. It sounded like an easy explanation, but that also made him feel so angry at himself it was barely bearable for him to just be.

Then he blamed other for his misfortunes; his parents who were never there, Ranma… It was easy to blame Ranma, though. Such a jerk, such an inconsiderate towards other people's feels and needs, always letting his ego place himself at the center of the target. Saotome was outrageous and quick on lit up the anger on him… And outraged Ryoga allowed himself to be at him. This outrage led him to China, then Jusenkyo, and to his curse. A life that was never good at first place became even worse. And it was all Ranma's fault!.

_"Was it?"_

Then there was Akane, the first person to be kind to him even when disguised as her pet pig. A heaven's treasure Ranma didn't deserve and Ryoga coveted for himself. Through his feelings for her, he knew love and infatuation, but he was never able to tell her how much he loved her… It was all Ranma's fault; and he, yet again, was bound to be alone.

_"Was he?"_

Unless he was with Akari. There, with her he didn't feel alone. She found him, accepted him, loved him, cherished him. Only that would be worth anything she wanted from him in return…

Then why sometimes, even around her, he'd choke on his own misery?

Was it that, then? There was no reason for it, right? He had his love, his life on her side, a beacon that would guide him to his path.

The word then popped into his mind. "Denial", they said to him while explaining, at school, the steps of grief. Back then he didn't give it much, but now it bothered him a bit. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance, then moving forward; that's what they said.

Was he wandering away from his path and getting lost because he's living a life stuck in this pattern? Was he the one who's keeping himself from finding his true happiness while drowned in depressive and angered misery? Why was he bound to repeat himself indefinitely in the pattern of denial, anger, bargaining, frustration and depression? Why?

_"Blame-shifting. It's always someone's else's fault, even the things that are not."_

The answer came, simple and quick, but not less powerful for that. He felt miserable because he kept lying to himself. To make things easier, to shelter away from the pain, to run away from the hurtful truth, to feel loved and accepted. And, in his despair, he got lost. Much worse than before, when he did have a bad sense of direction but could manage to find his path.

All the pieces clicked on his mind: His parents, Ranma, Akane, Akari. Amidst the facts, there were the lies he – himself- carefully constructed to move away from the truth, as painful as it was: The person who fucked his life most was him. No one else.

He was the one who dropped home and school to follow Ranma all the way to China because of a bread feud. Sure, he did throw him on a cursed spring in Jusenkyo, but it was not intentional. And he got to that place through his own footsteps, chasing him to a blood duel, didn't he? And, somehow, Ranma  _did_  try to make it up to him, keeping his secret about his curse.

He also was the one who accepted his part as P-chan and kept himself around Akane, begging for scrapes of her attention as a pet. He was the one who never told her how he felt, even if that love was an illusion of his neediness. He was the one who kept doing what he didn't want to do to get to people's affection.

He noticed the veil of tears on his eyes when he blinked slowly, but he didn't mind. It wasn't like he never cried before – God knew he did it quite often, though – but this time he wasn't crying of desperation and anger like before.

What was he crying for, then? He couldn't tell. And more tears marred his cheeks, until his chest was softly rocking by his sobs.

Who's to blame for that?

"No one." – He told himself the truth.

And it felt good. For the first time, crying while being lonely felt  _good_.

In a few days, he journeyed back to his girlfriend's home. On his way, he turned into a piglet by accident, but was able to change back again. He got lost, like alwasy but even so he was able to get back on track.

He didn't despair, didn't drown on misery.

Of course, he still thought life wasn't fair… But it felt okay, after all.

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

Here's the other chapter I promised. In one or two days you'll have another one. And, soon, the second one of The Midnight Cowboy.

And yes, there's the heaviest load of headcanon i've ever written, especially about Ryoga's emotional frailty and his directional issues. But it'll help clarify just how he ~could~ get a bit better, anyway.

* * *

Human Being, 01/25/2014

 


	5. Snap

 

* * *

**Snap**

* * *

"I'm becoming this; All I want to do  
Is be more like me and be less like you  
And I know I may end up failing, too  
But I know you were just like me, with someone disappointed in you"  
 _Linkin Park – Numb  
_ …

A small black piglet crossed the Unryuu Dojo, seeking for the bathroom for a much wanted hot bath.

The true mind of the cute pig, however, was fuming.

One more time, during the training, he had to turn into his cursed form. There was some big-shot competition the pigs were supposed to attend to, and Katsunishiki needed to be fighting fit in order to keep his champion status. So he had to spend extra-time training the pigs, and it meant extra-time in his cursed form. He hated it; hated with all his might. Akari didn't seem to mind at all – not with those transformations, nor with his dismay.

Getting to the bath tub (which was empty – and God knew how hard it was for him to turn on the hot water in his piglet form), he managed to turn human again. Once himself, he barely could stop the surge of irritation pouring out of him.

On the other hand, Akari was pressing him harder and harder to comply with his supposed obligations towards the pig dojo. He knew why: on top of everything, her grandfather's poor health was getting worse; on that pace it'd be a matter of weeks, if not days, for him to die. He understood he should be supportive – and that's why he was turning into 'P-chan' so often to train the pigs. But that only didn't seem to be enough for her; the imminence of his grandfather passing pressed her on demanding him to be the man she (and he) wanted them to be.

Because only this way he would be worthy of marrying her.

_That_  hurt him a big deal.

He yanked the towel from the holder and stepped out of the tub, covering himself on a yukata to go to his room fairly scarce to walk around the house and, of course, not stomp on her while half-naked or anything. Yes, he was living with her; but never crossed certain limits with his girlfriend, not under his grandfather's roof and not before proper marriage. Actually, even if opportunity presented itself he wouldn't go further – one thing was they sharing kisses and some caresses, other completely different was going all the way with her, and to be honest he didn't feel compelled to it yet.

Not that he didn't feel attracted to her, he certainly did. Not that he didn't know some of his classmates would call him stupid for it either, or say he was playing 'nice guy' to her; but it wasn't quite that. He didn't want her to acknowledge his control over his hormones for the sake of her virtue or anything; he was doing it for his own peace of mind.

But there were many, many other things he  _was_  doing for her.

He knew he was busting his ass off to train those pigs, go to school, get reasonable grades and keep up with their expectations towards the man they wanted him to become. Thing is, though, he wasn't sure  _at all_  this was what he wanted to do of his life. A part of him wanted to be with Akari; even though he didn't know yet if it was love or a convenient mingling of feelings that mimicked love close enough. What really bothered him was he was willing to accept her in his life – as long as she accepted him on hers.

The  _real_  Ryoga, not the one she wanted him to be.

At first he tried to comply, make an effort and do as she said; it didn't work. Then he tried to vent a little away from her, and she almost went ballistic. He made it back safe and sound; proving her he could go away for a little while and come back on a reasonable time span, but the response was her constant pestering about how he was neglecting his responsibilities over the training of those fucking pigs.

And there was his curse.

On his point of view, there was nothing good on turning into the small piglet once called P-chan. Nothing at all. He'd had been almost eaten, almost killed, almost cooked, almost crushed, almost kidnapped by a crazy skater, almost stuck in that cursed form. None of that felt good. Even the affection Akane addressed to P-chan felt sour on him, even if he needed that attention so badly he couldn't bring himself to forfeit it. But that was gone. Now he did everything on his power to not turn into the damned pig, and dreamed of a cure even though he knew the springs were still flooded and nannichuan was out of reach. He even purchased some bars of Jusenkyo soap to keep locked as human temporarily, but never got to use it for long because of his 'responsibilities' to the sumo pigs. Akari used to say she didn't mind his curse, but he did. God knew he did, and to this day he'd do anything to find himself a way to get rid of the pig.

Of course, this was also a conflict point between him and Akari.

He knew she was also under pressure. After all, her grandfather was the only way of life she's ever known. He could understand her grief, but he couldn't avoid the urge to wish him a good riddance and send this whole pig-training thing to Hell.

In his room, he tried to calm down a little. He didn't want to get so cranky, and for sure didn't like to feel this way about an old man who was in the end of his life. But knowing that, in a while, he would have to turn into a pig  _again_  and train those sumo pigs  _again_  wasn't helping him to get any less irritated.

Soon it was supper time, and he could feel her tension while she was at the table. He knew she wanted him to stay with Katsunikishi as much as possible, but he had called it for day because he would have a test tomorrow and he wanted to give a last look on his books. She sensed it, and it was just a matter of time for the storm to set in.

"Are you going up to your room?"

"Yes" He said, as softly as he could. "I have a test tomorrow. But don't worry, Katsunikishi will do just fine, he's fit."

"This is an important match, Ryo-kun…"

"I  _know_." He replied, rather tersely this time. "He's fit."

"Well, if you say so…"

"Yes, I say so." He picked the slight of derision on her line. He was really intending to let it go, but he couldn't stop the words from coming this time. "I say – more than that, I vow – your champion won't lose because of me slacking on his training or something. I mean, how could I, right? Isn't that the reason I'm here, anyway?"

"Ryoga-"

"No, don't. Don't. I know. I know what you'll say. But couldn't you have just a little faith on me? Is it that hard?"

"I have faith on you. Of course I have!"

"Then show me. Show it to me." He looked at her eyes, sustaining her gaze. "Show me you have faith on me. Show me you trust my judgment, you trust my choices, you trust my qualities as much as you trust my flaws!"

"I do trust you!" She said, standing off the table while he kept on his knees. "But you've got to understand how important this-" She waved her hands in the air, referring to the house they were in. "-is! This is my inheritance, the legacy we have to carry on, Ryoga! And here you say to me they are 'fit'!"

He winced on the "we", because he realized  _he_  wasn't there.

"They  _are_  fighting fit, Akari, I ain't kidding when I say that!"

"Neither am I, but 'fighting fit' isn't good enough! They have to be the best; WE have to be the best! We can't abide anything lesser than being the best. I know you know that, as the martial artist you are! And yes, I say 'we' because this is your legacy, too. This is also your work, your sweat to train those pigs to be 'fighting fit', as you say..."

He stood up too, feeling the familiar well of anger mixed with despair and fear of rejection sucking up on him. " _Breathe_ ", he commanded himself, " _calm down, don't cry, breathe; let her finish off._ " She kept going, saying how the legacy of her family was so important it would justify anything they should do to keep it; making his regards sound like mere pet-peeves for him to slip off what he should do. When she finished, he blinked back tears; but managed to keep quiet and not give in to what she wanted – or blasting the entire house for that matter, although he was ticked enough to pull off a hell of a Shi-Shi-Hokodan.

But he steadied himself, silently.

"Won't you say something, Ryoga?"

"I don't know who the hell this Ryoga guy you've got on your head is. You talk to me like if I was him."

"Are you  _kidding_  me?"

"No." He shook his head, slowly. "Actually, I've never talked so serious in all my life."

She said nothing, but looked more confused than ever to him. He went upstairs, heading to his room. He took a while to find it, but he paid it no mind. It was also a part of  _him_. Unwelcome, but yet his.

He would never, ever lie to himself again.

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

Yet another one. Well, people reading this must me thinking - why don't they meet and go and do it already? But the thing is... It's not on canon, and so I need some backstory to make it work in my head. And both need to change a bit to get there, IMO. So this is it - Ryoga is slowly changing, even if some of them are not for the best. But some are for his best, actually; he's getting more assertive and less frail and swingy. However, how will he react when something he never - ever - fathomed to happen in his life takes place... Let's see to it, shall we?

And tomorrow, both stories (the day tripper and midnight cowboy) will have new chapters - yes, the stories now will meet, in a way. Anyway, stay tuned.

* * *

Human Being, 01/26/2014

 


	6. Death

 

* * *

**Death**

* * *

"If we suddenly fall should I scream out  
Or keep very quiet and cling to  
My mouth as I'm crying  
So frightened of dying  
Relax yes I'm trying  
But fear's got a hold of me"  
 _Death – White Lies  
_ …

He heard through some old man in the city about a demon wizard in the mountains who could control the water's temperature at his will, from freezing to boiling hot. It made sense – if the water stored in your body could be controlled, too, it would be always hot, then lock a cursed person in its real form.

If it's true, it would be his chance to lock himself human for good. And, at this point of his life, there was pretty much nothing we wouldn't do for this chance.

Despite Akari vehement protests, he left to the mountains just on winter's vacation, saying he'd be back for classes. But he got late; not because he got lost, but because this demon wizard was really hard to find. And, once found, he was not willing to cooperate – and Ryoga felt compelled to beat some sense on him.

But, of course, this was him – and with his luck, it was nothing but expected things would go way less smoothly than he thought. Sure he did get the bastard and was about to finish him, but then the wizard summoned the biggest snowstorm he'd ever seen, making him wander around the frozen woods and yet again fear for his life. But he wouldn't give up.

The former argument with Akari was stuck on his mind. His point was made crystal clear – she didn't even have a clue on who truly was Ryoga Hibiki, and it made him feel mad, sad, disgusted at her and at himself. He wasn't her new piggy piggy, he wasn't the vessel for the projections and expectations of her and her grandfather. And he had enough of the pigs, enough of his curse. He  _would_  find a cure and be a whole man, so he didn't need to be stuck to that ever again. Or he would die trying.

Funny thing his thoughts on 'die trying' came when he was pretty much heading his way on doing just that.

"My goodness, Mr. P, you and this thing of yours about doing stuff that will get you killed."

He closed his eyes, recognizing the voice immediately. And he just couldn't believe  _he_  was here. Just his luck.

"Saotome."

"Oh, yeah, the one and only. Now, care to tell me what the hell ye doin' here? Trying to get your ass frozen or something? It ain't cool, man."

"Me?" He turned to face the pigtailed martial artist he hadn't seen in almost two years, but who didn't seem to have changed that much. "Well, I am trying to find a cure to my curse. Which is not what you're doing here, I guess…"

"Akari gave me a call." Ranma shrugged. "She's worried about you."

"Sure she is."

"Anyway, P, I don't think you really believe you gonna find a cure here, do ya? Because man, I thought the years woulda made you smarter than that."

"Hah." Ryoga gave him a humorless laugh. "Sorry for not quit on finding a cure for my curse like you did, Ranma. But you see, not anyone has it as light as you do. Your curse does come in handy for you sometimes – and I better than anyone know that – but it's hardly the case for the rest of us."

"Uh, dude, you're puttin' words on my mouth if you're sayin' I have a 'nice time' with my curse. Last time I checked, Akari was the one who didn't seem to mind you turnin' into bacon-butt…"

Ryoga really wanted to pound the other for that one, but at a time like this – in the middle of a snow storm – it seemed counterproductive. So he just rolled his eyes and kept moving on. Of course, Ranma followed along.

"Yo, man, look…" Ranma grabbed his arm, which he pulled off with a harsh yank. "I ain't gonna tell you to come back or throw the match. I mean, I don't believe this shit's gonna work, but I'm willing to give it a go. But not now, okay? Getting our sorry asses frozen on this stupid weather doesn't sound like fun."

Ryoga gritted his teeth. Ranma was right.

"Okay, then. There's a small cave around here, it will do as a shelter for us."

OOO

The final battle against the wizard came, and Ryoga was feeling uneasy as he didn't feel in a very long time.

For starters, Ranma was right: There would be no cure here, and that alone was frustrating enough for a bunch of Shi-Shi-Hokodans in a row. He sure had a lot of ki stored since he hadn't pulled off that trick in his whole time with Akari (" _It should mean I've been happy, right?_ "). But even the stubborn head of his could see things were turning way more dangerous than expected.

Not that he was a stranger to danger, and he meant it when he first thought he'd die trying get a cure out of this; but right now, knowing the cure hardly would come and seeing death as a very plausible possibility, he couldn't avoid having second thoughts while he faced the demon he was supposed to vanquish.

He saw the demon charging at him, and even Ranma was keeping a safe distance. He said many times he wasn't here to die, and he understood him: He had something to come back to.

_"But… What am_ I _going to come back to?"_  He mused to himself, and realized that Akari, the sumo wrestling pig dojo and everything that was his current life wasn't that much appealing. Yes, he was still hurt at Akari's words from that dreaded fight, but it went deeper than that.

Why, just  _why_  things didn't work fine to him? What was so wrong about him, after all?

The demon's attack came closer, and Ryoga just gave in. The Shi-Shi-Hokodan came perfect, and there was nothing the wizard could do to dodge the blast. But as soon his life force was gone, the snowstorm got much, much worse; and the shockwave after the explosion sent him flying across the frozen surface of the mountain.

" _Oh, cripes_ " He thought as he braced himself for impact, knowing his stamina still was the same as his days of Bakusai Tenketsu, if not better. He actually had to thank the sumo pigs for that, after all. But still, he felt a sharp flash of pain as he connected to the ice ground shaken by an earthquake. On the corner of his eyes, however, he saw Ranma getting wet by a spree of water from god-knows-where. It was about to hit him, too; but Ranma wasn't nearly as good as him on avoiding cold water accidents. And the prick had the nerve to complain about his curse.

"Hey, you damn idiot, watch out! If you get wet, you'll freeze to death!"

Another earthquake brought him to his knees, and the icy wind of the storm wasn't letting him see a thing. However, he heard Ranma shouting something at him, probably some insult.

"What? Can't hear you!"

"DON´T MOVE, DAMMIT!"

He stood to his feet, and a crackling sound made his blood run cold. He realized he was standing in the frozen surface of the river seconds before the ice shattered beneath his feet.

Then he knew he would drown to his death in his pig form, alone.

Just his luck.

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

In a couple hours, check the Ranma's story out - it'll have news in there!

* * *

Human Being, 01/27/2014

 


	7. Awareness

 

* * *

**Awareness**

* * *

"The sour taste of your body lingered in my mouth a little longer  
From sour, the salty got so sweet;  
As soon as your scent, strong and dull,  
made a home in my arms, and yet light  
strong, bling and terse, it made me know  
It was too much, and still not enough"  
 _Daniel na Cova dos leões – Legião Urbana (free translation from portuguese to english - see footnotes for original lyrics)_  


…

He was dead. He knew he should be, though. Then, why was he still there? Why could he still feel? Maybe all this thing about afterlife was is true, anyway.

He could remember the cold. The cold and the horrible sensation of drowning, of not having arms and legs to detangle himself from his own clothes while the stream dragged him along. The pain in his chest gave way to an odd sensation of numbness, and then… Nothing.

Now he felt warm. Cocooned in a familiar sensation of comfort he couldn't quite place, even though he couldn't move a finger. Not comfortably numb, not dulled to everything else. At peace. If this is death, it's not so bad, after all.

Then he felt what could be arms stirring, embracing him. A tickle of a close breath, a faint yet familiar scent he couldn't recognize. But it felt good – Oh, so good. Something nuzzled at his neck, going up to his cheek, and the warmth grew better. He felt sheltered, for maybe the first time in his life. Funny thing, feeling like that in death. He would have smiled, if he could move.

But he felt so sore, so tired and weary… He basked in the sensation, in the delicate warmth of this embrace. And he drifted away to sleep, or lose consciousness, whatever.

Thus, he would never be able to tell how much time it took him to move again, when he found himself on his friend's arms.

"Ranma?"

"Hyia, P-chan… you gave me a scare, you know."

He felt the arms of Ranma's arms, now a girl, retreat from his body. Naked body.

He felt a sudden rush on his heart, almost painful. And it felt good. It felt great. Greater than any time he had Akari on his arms… Suddenly, he was aware. Aware of Ranma, her big blue eyes, her red hair, her warmth all over his body. It struck him like a lightning bolt. His heart was pounding inside his chest like it never did to Akari, to Akane, to no one. And he could tell what it was; he only couldn't admit it.

" _He's actually a guy, stop this."_  He commanded his brain, to no use.  _"C'mon, dude, this is Ranma, the one who kept fooling you in a drag, remember?"_ He did. Each and every time. In the girls' locker room in Furinkan High, with Shampoo as Furinkan students trying to set him up with Akane to get the jusenkyo soap from him, posing as his 'fiancée' on his date with Akane, as a volleyball player to get him rid of the Mark of Gods, as his 'sister Yoiko' when he made it home, as his housekeeper when Akane and Akari were there. He recalled those times, all of them. Nothing changed. Actually, it got worse.

"Uh… Am I naked?" The thought of being on birthday suit in a sleeping bag with Ranma Saotome in his female form startled him to no ends. And he never even gave a thought about it before, never! Why now?

""What did you expect? You managed to soak your clothes entirely and no way they could've dried in this storm."

"And you're still a girl?"

"Yeah, used the whole warm water to turn you back into a guy and maybe warm ya a little."

"Shit."

_"Yeah, shit, shit, shit. Holy fucking shit, Ryoga! STOP THIS!"_  His conscious mind chided, fuming. With good reason: What was that, he attracted to Ranma Saotome? After the guy turned into a girl to save him from drowning in a fucking frozen river and then from sheer hypothermia? He knew he didn't sport a hard-on by the time because he was, like, almost dead.

But the attraction was there.

_"He's a guy, picture him as the guy he is! The jerk, the inconsiderate douchebag who can't see a thing aside his bellybutton! Yeah, yeah, he saved your sorry ass, but still! He. Is. A. GUY! You're NOT into guys, c'mon."_

"Do you have a spare inside your backpack? P-chan?"

_"Okay, stupid, at least act natural, will ya?"_ He took a deep breath. "Guess so, at least a pair of trousers and a clean shirt"

"It's too cold for only that, you know."

"Why, genius, do YOU have a spare with you?"

"Uh, as much as you do… guess you'll have to wait until your clothes dry up"

"Yah. Besides I'm too sore to stand up now"

"I´ll put them out to dry, then." Ranma left the sleeping bag, and if he listened carefully he'd hear his shaky sigh of relief.

"Uh… Ranma…"

"What?"

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"Uh… could you turn to your back? I´ll put some clothes on" He never, ever bothered to dress up while Ranma was watching, male or female. Why this now, for God's sake?  _"Maybe I got some brain damage from lack of oxygen, because there isn't a logical explanation for it, other than that."_

"Uh… Okay."

But getting dressed was good, after all. Helped to cut out some of this, because picturing Ranma in his head as a boy wasn't doing its trick this time.

"You decent?"

"Yup" He nods, to then pay attention on the redhead shivering.

_"Oh no, not her-_ him _inside the sleeping bag again. I'd kill myself right here and right now if I get a boner on Ranma Saotome."_ His fear was frighteningly real, but he knew he couldn't let the other shiver outside. Not after what she-  _he_  did for him. "Come inside here, it´s really cold."

"Yup"

As Ranma was getting into the sleeping bag, he stammered.

"Won't you change back to a guy?

"Er, too much trouble to boil water without a fire, don'tcha think?"

"Oh, I see." He sighed.  _"Just great."_

To his luck, however, it seemed he was too sore to get hard anytime this year. But as Ranma got inside the bag, he recoiled a little in a try to avoid body contact as much as possible. His body might be spent; but his head, however, was reeling. No, he never –ever- felt attracted to Ranma. Then, what the hell was that?

" _Never? Pah. He always got you straight up every time he pulled his drags off. And you always thought he made a pretty girl, didn't you, Hibiki?"_  Well, yes, but Ranma was a guy, and he always knew that! It used to work wonders before: especially when Ranma played his fiancée and made a pass on him. Everytime he saw him as a guy, bam! He'd shut off. There was also that dreaded episode of the fishing rod of love, and he clearly remembered of feeling disgusted of the idea of being with a lovey-dovey Ranma; male or female. And when the soul from the mirror who copied Ranma's image as a girl cornered him while he was waiting Akari for a date and stole from him what was supposed to be his first kiss. He didn't feel anything but sheer outrage. Outrage!

_"But it wasn't really Ranma kissing you…"_

No, he didn't like Ranma like  _that_ , it was him being lonely, lying to himself again. It must be! It…

"So" She continued talking. "How do you feel?"

"Like hell."

"Still cold?"

"Yeah…" He was shivering, his mouth was dry. And it wasn't cold, wasn't the soreness all over his body. But what it was… No, it couldn't be, just couldn't. He damn well knew he didn't want to lie to himself and make a fool of him like he'd been doing all this time, but no, NO, he wasn't… he wasn't…  _"Okay, think about it later. Later… You're tired, sore, not thinking straight. Of course not, you almost died! It's your body projecting on Ranma your well known tendency to cling to any scrape of affection…"_ He looked up, not really focusing on anything.

"Uh, we should go, dude…"

He tried to get up as the other did, but soon he learned he wasn't in any condition to walk home. Then Ranma said something about turning him into little P-chan and carrying him home. On other circumstances, he'd refuse; but now he even felt relieved. That it was: Ranma turned him into a piglet, gathered their packs and carried him on her arms – still a she. And in her arms… Ryoga could smell things a lot better when he was a pig, and definitely her smell was doing things to his brain.

_"Don't think about it. Don't think about it._ " He kept repeating to himself mentally, like a mantra. But he was still processing things: He could faintly tell, in his cursed form, that Ranma smelled the same in both of his forms. It didn't change, and he knew that because if it did, he'd be able to tell the difference right away and that would get his attention. Now it did, but not because he smelled different or anything – he was just paying attention to something he never did before.

But right now, he couldn't even think about it; let alone entertain the whole concept on his head. Later. He'd deal with it later. Now, he was being carried by Ranma to see Dr. Tofu.

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

Hi there,

So, here both stories collide for the first time. Hope you enjoy seeing such a small happening from different points of view. Also, the yaoi undertones will now turn into HUGE overtones, really. Then beware, folks.

The song you see at the beginning of this fic is "Daniel na Cova dos Leões" from Legião Urbana - an iconic brazilian 80's rock band whose vocalist, Renato Russo, wrote one of the most poignant pieces about the sensation of forbiddance, desire and temptation in the attraction between two people of the same sex. This music is, IMHO, one of his most understated masterpieces - and we're talking about someone who had the status of a iconic pop songwriter even back then.

Well, to whom may interest it, here comes the original lyrics from portuguese:  
"Aquele gosto amargo do teu corpo  
Ficou na minha boca por mais tempo.  
De amargo, então salgado ficou doce,  
Assim que o teu cheiro forte e lento  
Fez casa nos meus braços e ainda leve,  
Forte, cego e tenso, fez saber  
Que ainda era muito e muito pouco."

Anyway, enjoy it.

* * *

Human Being, 01/29/2014

 


	8. Innocence Lost

 

* * *

**Innocence Lost**

* * *

"A little death without mourning  
No call and no warning  
Baby, a dangerous idea that almost makes sense.  
Love is drowning in a deep well  
All the secrets, and no one to tell.  
Take the money, honey...  
Blindness."  
 _Love is Blindness – U2  
_...

He kept telling himself he would deal with all of that later. And while he recovered from his near-death experience in the mountains, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

At first, he tried hard to convince himself it was a wicked illusion of his zoned-out brain. Like those visions from near-death experiences people often talk about. He had experienced other moments where he came awfully close to die, though, but the only thing he saw was his grandparents, deceased long ago, and… Akane and Ranma together and happy while he was dying in misery.

It would be so simpler if the answer was just that – a product of lack of oxygen, misery, stress and resentment. But the illusion, or whatever was that, wasn't vanishing. It could not be real, it just couldn't.

But not knowing if that was real or imagined somehow brought him some different musings: There was a lot on his life that really wasn't real. He had a glimpse of that before, at that night he spent on his tent thinking about denial, loneliness and grief. There were a lot of things he fabricated to get through better in some way; and a lot he chose not to see, consciously or not. And illusions and tended to reproduce and spread away; creating all other sorts of lies to sustain their own.

Now he was in this maze of mirrors, each of them giving to him a different reflection of what he called reality, and there was no way he could tell what was real or not. Too much time making illusions… He needed to undo them now.

And maybe if he started breaking the illusions he carefully built to appease himself along the way, this one would too disappear.

He bid his goodbyes to Dr. Tofu, thanking the man as much as he could for patching him up enough to keep going. Then he got out, letting his feet walk him through a path he never had the chance to memorize like the others he could now follow without getting horribly lost; but his heart and his soul knew well enough to lead him there even when he couldn't say right from left, north from south. It took him almost an hour to a walk people used to take in up to ten minutes, but he found himself at the Tendo Dojo.

And there was Ranma, in his male self, training. His heart started to pound inside his chest again, and his mouth was as dry just like when he first realized he – at that time, a she – was pressing against him to warm him up.

"Ranma?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you busy?"

"Not right now." He replied, concentrated on his workout. "Whaddya want?"

"Wanted to say thank you…"

"Come on, it´s no big deal"

"And I want to say I´m sorry"

"What for?"

"You know" He lowered his eyes, swallowing back the lump on his throat. "I wasn´t exactly a nice person to you in all those years…"

"Yeah, neither was I, so…"

"Let me finish" He interrupted Ranma; he needed to say it all. "I always blamed you for all the bad things that happened to me. Sure, some of them you were really the one to blame, but it was still unfair of me. I always pictured you as an honorless jerk, and spent a good part of those years we know each other trying to beat your ass up." Ranma chuckled a little. "Anyway, you had all the reasons to give a rat's ass to whatever could happen to me, and let me screw my life up all by myself. This last fight is a good example… But no, you butted into my fight and saved my life. It was really nice of you." He let out a breath he didn't even notice he was holding. "Fact is, I was wrong about you. Sure sometimes you´re a jerk, but some other times you´re really a good person. And you don´t deserve the treatment I´ve been giving you…"

This time, he took a deep breath while Ranma remained silent.

"… and some of my actions towards you are really less than honorable."

Ranma startled, certainly knowing what was about to come next.

"Ranma, I´m going to tell Akane about P-chan."

"No."

"Why not?"

"You don´t need to tell her that. Just don´t play P-chan again and it will be fine."

"You don´t understand. You know, she will eventually see me wet and meet my cursed form. It´s not fair to expect you to always cover my butt about that."

"But…"

"Look, I've been thinking about doing it for a while, and now time has finally come. Trust me, Ranma. I'll make it up for you. The only thing I ask of you is to let me talk to her alone. Okay?"

"Okay" Ranma was flabbergasted, he could tell. Certainly thinking the time he spent underwater must have damaged his brain, but it wasn't that.

Honestly, this entire thing about P-chan, which used to be his biggest secret, seemed now so small and out of place he couldn't believe he considered it such a big deal. He was certainly hiding much more now, much deeper things.

Time to break the illusions, indeed.

OOO

Akane was staring at nothing, flabbergasted, just after he broke her the news. No beating in the bush, no mollycoddling this time. In an amusingly monotone voice, he said it all: he really had a Jusenkyo curse – the black piglet she used to call P-chan.

"You…"

"I know." He said, lowering his head.

That, what was supposed to be the most traumatizing experience of his life; yet he felt… nothing. The gut-wrenching despair that he thought to destroy him… Where was it? Not there, actually. And Akane… He barely could recognize her. She seemed to him now… just a girl. Yes, Akane Tendo, his friend, Ranma's fiancée and his former big crush; but certainly not the beacon once guided his life.

"You slept in my bed!" She shrieked, raising her fist to connect a blow. He took it, he surely deserved that. Then she tried to throw another, but he held her wrist with disconcerting ease. "Wha-"

"I-I'm sorry, Akane." He said; his eyes full of sorrow but not nearly as devastated as he thought he would be. "I am, from the bottom of my heart… But you won't hit me again."

"Why?" She yanked her wrist, painfully aware of the abyss which separated her martial skills from his. "I  _want_  to hit you!"

"I know… But I don't want you to hit me, you know. I messed up, bad; but I won't take another hit. Sorry."

"Why… Why did you do it?"

"I was in love with you. Or at least I thought so. And that was the only way I could be close to you without crossing Ranma or being a nuisance to you… And I never, ever could bring myself to say what I really felt for you. Don't get me wrong, I hated to be just a pet pig for you and I always sought to be cured of my curse to be worthy of you, but somehow… I knew, deep down, there would never be a chance. Then I… just kept it going, I couldn't let this travesty go."

"Oh…" A lot of things seemed to fit in place to her, now that she knew what he felt. "Ranma… Ranma knew! He did, didn't he?"

Ryoga closed his eyes.

"He did. But he was bound not to tell you anything by an oath on his honor as a martial artist."

"And since when does he have ho-"

"He does, you know he does. Anyway, that's why he picked on… P-chan so much." Again, reason sank in her, but even this did nothing to calm her down. "And, before you ask, he made this oath because he and his father were the ones to knock me down in that cursed spring in Jusenkyo, when I was chasing them to get Ranma to our duel. On top of that, his father tried to cook me."

She was hard pressed to hold her anger. After all, she has never been known as a steady temper. But she kept herself together.

"Leave, Ryoga. Now. Just leave…"

He stood up and headed to the front door, hearing the sharp sound of wood splintering on the background.

That was the first illusion of his he ever broke. He knew this would be the first of many he would have to shatter, since it was necessary to stop hiding the truth from him. And it did nothing to make him feel less confused and lost inside. A sensation before linked to an impending despair and fear and anger; but which brought him nothing but sorrow.

He felt sorry. Truly did; but not for Akane, nor for Ranma… He felt sorry for him. For him, who would never lose himself on the calculated despair of not being loved by his Akane Tendo. Who would never lose himself on his imagined vendetta against Ranma Saotome, nor name him the source of all his mishaps... And maybe… Never again find the solace on the carefully constructed love he felt for his Akari.

He was so, so sorry for the innocence he lost on that cave.

He blinked back his tears, steadied himself the best he could to find his path again. It was time to go where he now called home. There, he could cry all he wanted.

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

Not much to say about this one, really. Even though I'd like to make a recommendation - read this one listening to Love is Blindness, from U2. And in one day or two, another one - and also on the other fic.

Stay tuned!

* * *

Human Being, 02/03/2014

 


	9. Heavy Heart

 

 

 

 

* * *

**Heavy heart**

* * *

 

"This will be my last confession  
I love you never felt like any blessing  
Whispering like it's a secret  
In order to condemn the one who hears it  
With a heavy heart"  
 _Heavy in your arms – Florence and the Machine  
…_

Ryoga got inside the Unryuu's house weeks after, just to be received by a tearful bear-hug from Akari. And he never imagined her to have the strength she was showing while clinging to him. Between sobs and whispers of apologies, she guided him to his room – just like she used to do when he first arrived at her house. She captured his lips with an unknown hunger, pushing him inside his room and not caring with anything else but the young man in her arms. And he did answer to her passion, letting himself feel the intensity of her need for him.

It was good. Pleasurable, yes. Touching her slender form, cupping her pretty small face on his hands, feeling her pressing onto him with a desperation that seemed contagious. And for a moment, he thought she would be able to set him on fire. He wanted to have trouble on refraining himself, wanted to toss her on his bed, corner her small form under his strength. She wanted it too, and both of their bodies wanted that. He wanted to feel the rush of passion and pleasure the scent of her- _him_  was promising him when he woke, weak and sore, on that cave after nearly dying.

And then, he realized he was thinking of  _him_  while kissing and touching her. She was doing this out of love, but he was not.

He eased her down, whispering they should stop before things got way too steamy, and she complied. She, too, didn't want to dishonor her beloved grandfather on going too far with the man she loved, even though it seemed to matter very little when she was in his arms. She got out, whispering back how much she loved him and how much she had missed him, and as soon as she closed the door, he fell to his knees on the floor and broke himself to tears.

Oh, this illusion… This one, he wanted so much to keep. The illusion of loving her back, of not feeling attracted to a man instead of the woman he should love. He knew very well the name men like him were given, and didn't like it one bit. He didn't want to be… a pervert, he didn't want to be this way. He wanted a normal life, with Akari, his kids… Even the pigs would do. And he cried even harder when he found out he couldn't come back to where he started.

That, what he felt on the cave when he woke up, was  _real_  – oh, so painfully real it hurt. Yet he knew Ranma would never be like him, he knew he was doomed and Akari could be his last chance of a normal life. He knew the wisest thing to do was to forget it all, stay there, comply, let himself be loved by her.

But it was another illusion, no matter how sweet it was.

As the days passed by, he knew it even better, but just couldn't bring himself to break up and leave. He didn't want to, but he felt he had no choice. He'd sink her in his denial, lose her to the frustration, and see her mingle with anger and blame-shifting because he would never be who she wanted him to be. Even more elemental – she deserved to know he couldn't love her back the way she loved him.

If he stayed, they would build a castle out of sand, an illusion bound to drift and sink by the inevitable tide and consume them both. She didn't deserve that.

And leaving her was, to that date, the hardest thing he ever did.

 

OOO

This time, he wandered away intending to be lost, because he couldn't face anyone right now.

Fat chance someday in his life he would think he'd find solace in solitude, but this day had come. But it didn't last for long – soon enough he was on Nerima's outskirts.

"Fuck."

There he went, one step after another, knowing his legs would lead him – by pure force of habit – once again to the Tendo Dojo. He got inside, greeted Kasumi, who didn't seem to notice he'd been away, and left his pack somewhere on the garden to hit the roof.

He had some serious thinking to do, as usual to those days. He heard Akane greeting the house as she arrived; something that once filled his heart with joy. Kasumi must have mentioned he was around, because in a while there she was, facing him. She sat by his side and said, beforehand, she wasn't still quite done on being mad at him, but was working on it. She reckoned that he never made anything worse than sleeping on his bed and some not-so-involuntary peeping; but was still mad he didn't say anything to her. And while listening to her, he mused yet again where all that overwhelming feeling he had for his 'beautiful Akane' had gone. How the hell it was wiped away by Akari and all the convenience he told himself it was love; and all of it was smashed into tiny little pieces by one single moment of his life.

He smiled at her, saying he always would see her as one of his best friends – and he needed them both to know that was genuine on P-chan. She smiled, asked him to come down with him, but he politely declined. And stayed on the rooftop watching the sunset.

In a while, someone else approached him. He didn't have to look at it to see it was Ranma.

"Hey."

"Hey, Ryoga. Wat´cha doing?"

"Nothing, really" He had his gaze fixed upon the horizon, a blank expression on his face.

"Hum, what´s up? How´s Akari?"

_"Long story short?"_  Ryoga thought, keeping the humorless laugh to himself. "We broke up."

"Oh, man, sorry for asking."

"No big deal."

"Uh, who did it?"

"I did."

"Why?" Ranma asked, and Ryoga felt he was about to cry.

_"Yeah, Ranma, why?"_  Because on that day he saved his life, he found out he wasn't nearly close the person he'd always thought to be? Because he felt desire and attraction beyond his control for another man? Because he couldn't let it go away and live his life knowing that inside, deep inside, he was a… this way? Because now he wasn't able to fool himself anymore, like he used to?

'The truth will set you free', he heard once. Was he free now? If so, at what price?

Ryoga kept quiet; Ranma's eyes, lit up by the sunset glow, looked like jewels that showed him, beyond the benefit of doubt, he was attracted to these eyes when he was a she; but it wouldn't matter one bit to him. He was attracted to  _Ranma_ , in a way he never –ever- felt to anyone. And maybe never would be again.

And that simply could not be. Yet, despite all Akari's flaws and mistakes towards him… She didn't deserve to be thrown in the middle of this mess.

"Ryoga!" Kasumi's voice from downstairs interrupted his thoughts. "Someone´s on the phone!"

He stood up to pick it, imagining it must be Akari on yet another desperate try to control the uncontrollable. Ranma followed him closely, but he didn't care.

"Hello" He said in a flat voice, but the voice he heard on the phone startled him.

"Ryoga, my son, is it you?"

"Mom?"

 

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

Not much to say about this one, really. Tomorrow, both will be updated.

* * *

Human Being, 02/03/2014

 


	10. Homecoming

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Homecoming**

* * *

 

"Time to heal, 'desire' time  
And your earth moves beneath your own dream landscape.  
On borderland we run  
I'll be there, I'll be there tonight  
A high-road, a high-road out from here"  
 _A sort of homecoming – U2  
…_

Ryoga couldn't believe it was his mom on the Tendo's phone. Sure, he'd mentioned on letters (most of them to ask money while lost) the Tendo Dojo, but he would never imagine his mother would come home and find him there through a phone call. That was just not the way he imagined his family reunion to be.

"My dear! I am so glad I've found you!" She beamed on the phone, and Ryoga felt somewhat infected with her happiness.

"Mom… I… I mean, whoa, are you  _home_?"

"Yes I am, dear! So is your dad! We… Oh, well, it's a rather long story for a phone call, ne? We're going there to pick you up."

"NO! Ah…" Ryoga felt a familiar sense of dread on the mention of both of his parents leaving his home, at once. "Listen, I can ask one of my friends to get me there, you don't need to…"

"Don't worry, dear, we'll be here in half an hour or so. Your father will take a cab."

"But…"

"Some things changed, baby…" He positively hated when his mother called him 'baby', but that was surely a special occasion, he let it pass. "You wait for us there, okay? See you soon."

She hung up, and Ryoga couldn't avoid the feeling he would not see his parents anytime soon.

But he did. Half an hour later, a taxi cab brought them straight to the Tendo Dojo. And seeing both of his parents greeting Mr. Tendo and Kasumi and expressing their gratitude for being around their son was one of the most surreal things Ryoga ever saw in all his life. And, weirder yet, they seemed to have gotten  _rid_  of their directional issues.

OOO

For the first time in years, Ryoga Hibiki was at home with  _both_  of his parents.

"So" His mother was oozing happiness, but was curious about what had her son been doing. "Care to tell me again about this Akari girl you were dating?"

"Uh, nothing much to say, really… It worked out for a while, but we broke up." Even though he missed his parents horribly, he wasn't in the mood for going into this.

"And those friends of yours, eh?" His father asked. "Martial artists, you say?"

"Yes… Nerima has a rather high number of martial artists. And those you met there are among the best I've ever seen. "

"As I can see, you're still on it; aren't you?"

"A bit, dad."

His father "hmphed", and he sensed a hint of annoyance on him. No wonder, because the obsession about martial arts was something they definitely didn't share.

"Anyway, Ryo-kun." His father straightened himself on his chair. "You must have guessed this is not our ordinary family reunion, right?"

"Yes, dad…" Of course he did, because an 'ordinary' family reunion among the Hibikis is no reunion at all. But he kept his mouth shut.

"And, as you will see, things are about to change around here." He picked up a small gadget and put in his hands. "Here, it's yours."

"Ah… What is that?"

"A GPS tracker." His father waved his hand, as if the answer was the most obvious one in the world. "It tells you where to go without getting lost."

"What? Dad, it's-"

" _Of course_  it is possible. That's something the company's been working on in a good while. There are some other options in the market, sure, but none as good as this one. This one," He pointed the gadget on his hands. "even a child with no sense of direction can operate."

"Like me." Ryoga completed, flatly.

"Sure not. You may have no sense of direction and a poor judgment from time to time; but you're hardly a child anymore, are you?"

"No, dad, I'm not." Ryoga wasn't used to this patronizing tone indeed, but he dawn well knew his father's penchant for righteousness – and patronizing. As he also knew his father never approved his obsession with the Art, much less his vendetta against Ranma Saotome.

Actually, what kept his old man off his back were precisely the directional issues of both of them.

Not that his father wasn't prone to his own obsessions, though. Despite the fact he had never been into martial arts, he was very much obsessed with his job as a software developer. Because of it, he traveled an awful lot; something very appealing to the wandering tendencies of the Hibikis. And he worked hard. On his field he was pretty much the 'number-one', and never expected less from anyone related to him. But while his father was focused (not to say obsessed) on a goal, he gave little mind to anything else, even the ever present domestic issue of the family's wandering – including Ryoga. Also, the constant travels and his own wanderings made his father a rather distant influence on his life. But still powerful enough to prompt on him the search from excellence on what he liked, though. Too bad it happened to be martial arts and a penchant to kick Ranma's ass; things his father would clearly disapprove.

However, now his father had reached his goals – plus, solved a great peeve of his, their lousy sense of direction. And Ryoga could feel on him a poignant need to find another one: His family, his legacy as the head of his household. His mother, a rather average Japanese housewife with a tendency to get lost, was easy to keep in line. He, however, was hardly the case.

"Which brings me to the point I wanted to reach. I won't lie to you, Ryo-kun, about how displeased I was on knowing you forfeited school in favor of martial arts. Or chasing that other boy to China. But the important thing is how you're doing now, and how you'll do from now on."

Ryoga felt a part of his heart sink as he remembered his curse, his failed relationship with Akari and his attraction to another man. But he still needed guidance; he wanted to be home with them. It was not like being with Akari, though; these were his parents after all.

"Is there something wrong, son?"

Ryoga swallowed hard, and started telling them about Jusenkyo. They didn't have to know about the rest (he certainly didn't want to mention anything about Ranma and why he broke up with Akari), but his curse was mandatory. When he finished, he could almost his father's eyebrows trembling, despite his apparent calm.

"So" The oldest Hibiki began. "You say there is no cure."

"To date, there isn't. Believe me, no one wants to get rid of this more than I do."

"But there's this… soap you use to… lock yourself… human?"

"Yes. It works for a while, but it wears off. It lasts a day, maybe two if you don't get wet too much."

"Honey, I think this… soap will do fine until… we don't find a better solution, ne?" His mother interfered, since his father was holding his temples with gritted teeth. "Besides, if they ship this to Japan, we can always keep it in stock. Right, dear?"

"Sure we can, dear" her husband answered in a strained voice.

It was now Ryoga's time to sigh heavily, trying to dismiss his bad feeling about this.

 

OOO

One night after dinner – those family dinners he almost didn't remember to have with his parents before – his father broke the news: He was invited to go to America to supervise a branch of the company he worked at, in a better position with a better wage.

His parents couldn't stop babbling about how happy they were, such a compliment it was to his father, and his father kept talking and talking about how he, Ryoga, would take his not-bad grades from high-school and get into an American college and get a hell of an education; they went on and on and on.

_"What do you mean, America?"_  He protested on his head, thinking about his life and friends in Japan. And here were his parents, setting his life for him and talking about dragging him to America and getting him into a college and etcetera. He was almost opening his mouth to ask them what the hell they had on their minds if they thought he'd leave Japan to move with them to the other side of the world, because here was his life…

_"Wait a sec: what life? Being second-best martial artist in Nerima? A crush on Ranma? An eventual comeback to Akari? Fat chance. Even before you found your parents, you've already been trying to wander_ away _from all this crap."_

And while his parents kept planning their life in America, he realized he might as well go, too.

At the end of that week, the family was packing to leave. And he felt he wouldn't miss Nerima, or the home his family barely shared, or Akari.

But he knew he would miss Ranma when he showed up at his home while he was finishing packing the trinkets of his room; asking what was that all about the trucks and boxes. It hurt to see the sorrow on his eyes; and his pained voice asking him why he didn't tell anything to anyone. In his way, Ranma cared about him, he'd always have.

_"As a friend"_ His mind whispered to him.  _"And it will never be nothing more than that."_  But it was good, while it lasted. Yeah, now he was about to leave, to turn the page to something really uncharted, he knew he would cherish the good, the bad, and everything in between. Even his random joke about him wandering back to Nerima as he always did until so seemed warm to his heart.

"Screw you, Saotome." He padded Ranma on his shoulder, wanting to make a memory to carry with him; one he never really had. "Wanna spar?"

Yes, spar. Spar without trying to best, to kill, to seek revenge. Spar to work out, reckon forces, and honor the friend and the martial artist Ranma was. And they did. Both of them attacking, dodging, blocking, counterattacking; in a dance where they never seemed so even. And Ryoga noticed the ever present anger on his battles wasn't there. Sorrow was, yes, because he would miss it; but not anger, not despair, not the sense of unfairness of life he ever complained about.

They finished the spar, and Ranma never looked so stunning to him. Not even in his female form. Ryoga knew it already, he was attracted to Ranma, not to a feminine figure of his. It would always be unrequited; Ranma belongs to Akane and Nerima, but he, Ryoga… He had to find where he belongs to, still.

"Hey… don´t you get soft, okay?" He said.

"You should talk…" Ryoga's eyes were happy again. Then he looked serious. "But I won´t. Seriously."

"Let´s see. Next time we meet we´ll rematch."

"Sure thing."He stood up, and helped me on my feet by grabbing Ranma's hand.

"Gotta get goin´, Ranma." He pulled him on a friendly embrace.

"Good luck, pal…"On that single moment, maybe the last thing he'd hear from Ranma in a long time, Ryoga had the feeling the other was about to cry. But he wouldn't, of course he wouldn't.

And he was okay with that.

He was ready to go.

 

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

Again, not much to say; besides now the chapters will get a bit longer. Also - there will be news on the othe fic. Stay tuned!

* * *

Human Being, 02/05/2014

 


	11. City of Angels

 

* * *

**City of Angels**

* * *

"I wanna run, I want to hide  
I wanna tear down the walls that hold me inside  
I wanna reach out and touch the flame  
Where the streets have no name"  
 _Where the streets have no name –U2  
…_  


On his wandering days, Ryoga had seen a lot of beautiful places for sure. He was familiar to the beautiful landscapes of Japan, and some other nearby coutries; and the wildlife always had its appealing to him. And, while on that, sometimes he had wished he could capture the things he saw when he was alone.  _"If my eyes were cameras_ ", he used to think.

But nothing was as impressive as Los Angeles. The city was  _beautiful_ : Maybe not bigger than Tokyo, and certainly not as populated, but there was something about the melting pot it seemed to be that was absolutely new to his eyes. The traditional and the defiant mixing and melting together in the maze of lights, shapes, colors; stars on the sky and on the pavement, blatant wealth of the rich alleys along with homeless artists on the bohemian streets, well-dressed yuppies along with sleazy rockers with long hair, beach and night against day and work and asphalt.

He was stunned.

Of course, his father kept him under iron grasp to prevent him to get lost. The GPS tracker was supposed to be everywhere with him and his father could remotely track him down through it; but his old man wasn't willing to give his meek directional sense any chances despite Ryoga's claims to have it better now. He couldn't blame him, though: Even he was afraid of getting lost in a city like this.

But his directional issues weren't his father's only concern: Now the family was settled in a middle-to-high class neighborhood in Santa Monica, the man was now focused 'Hibiki-style' into getting him into a good college. He was happy that Ryoga had been back to school making good grades, but he managed to make sure he was going to stay that way. As his father took him away from Japan, he demanded his righteous paternal control over his son's life. And he was granted that, as the GPS system he'd helped to develop kept his family from wandering away from his grasp. An electronic leech, let's say. But Ryoga didn't care that much.

He was enrolled into an American High School to attend the last classes he'd have to in order to get his graduation, and then go to the PSAT's and apply for college. And, under the careful watch from his father, Ryoga never studied so hard in his life. Thankfully, the foreign language wasn't much of an obstacle; at least for that his wanderings as a lost boy served for.

Of course, martial arts remained an issue between them. His father wasn't into that at all, and resented the way Ryoga had chosen the Art instead of his education at some moments of his life. His mother wouldn't be so blatant; but she'd agree, too. But even though Ryoga knew they had their share of reason on this, he wanted to keep being the martial artist he was, and to grow even better. It was that part of him who would always seek for a duel with Ranma, or would sulk and grudge and despair over small things and big ones. It was not a very reasonable piece of him but it was there – and he wouldn't deny it.

So, as soon as he found himself on high school, he looked for martial arts among the sports in there. He found out, however, he was way better than average, what could be a problem if he wanted to keep up and get better, but his father didn't even wanted to hear about enrolling him into a Dojo or an academy for martial arts special training – not until the PSAT's, that is. He was studying hard already and he believed we was capable of doing both school and martial arts and managing to get into a college like his dad wanted, but then he found out his father wanted him not only to get into college – he wanted him to get into the  _best_  college.

And that could as well be a problem, be martial arts in the way or not.

The solution, however, came just from where his father least expected – Martial Arts.

His grades were good, but not that good to get him into the best colleges in Los Angeles. But he was the best martial artist those colleges had seen in a long time. And, as a high-end college athlete, he could get into a college up to his father's standards. Even more so: being a high-end athlete could grant him scholarships to help with his tuition, something his father would certainly like to have even if he regarded money wasn't that of a problem. And, as a promising athlete on mixed martial arts, he got into the college his father wanted, after applying for civil engineering.

Not that he had the hots for construction, though, but his father was adamant on making an attorney or a businessman out of him, and he just couldn't see himself as any of that. But the Bakusai Tenketsu and the Shi-Shi Hokodan were techniques originally used on construction, and he felt a sort of identification in that. It was better than nothing, and this choice seemed to get his father out of his hair. For a while, that is.

And, with some martial arts training mixed in, he could live with that.

OOO

_~College's Training Hall_

Ryoga was watching the warm ups from the benches with his head propped on his palm, a bit impressed. Not that it was more difficult than what he'd always done in his early training with a sensei, or on his latter training trips as a loner martial artist. But it was a quite different style of training indeed.

The trainees actually were quite good. He'd imagine himself having a very hard time to beat some of them… If he could manage to do it, that is. Not something to mope about, though: Despite his excellence in martial arts, he was pretty much aware he – and the rest of the whole gang in Nerima – would be hard pressed to call themselves  _real_  athletes, like those guys fighting on the mat in front of him.

He fixed his attention on the middle-aged man coordinating the training. Big, sturdy, his build reminded him of Genma Saotome; but that aside they had absolutely nothing in common. For starters, he wasn't bald: his head was covered by short blond hair covered with silver streaks. Also, he wore no glasses, and fierce sky-blue eyes were noticeable even from that distance. And the man was so fair his skin was pinkish on his face, nose and neck. Had also rough features, high cheeks, square chin and a big crook nose; not a handsome man at all.

Anyway, he even didn't expect that: He'd already heard some about Ibrahim Halimovich, the renowned coach of mixed martial arts from his college. And none of it was good, except for his ability to get the best out of his trainees. He wasn't scared, though. He'd trained with Cologne, so his standards were quite high already.

"Hey" The man, best known inside those halls as Coach Hal, called him out. "Come down here."

He got up from the benches to stand in front of the man.

"So, you're the new guy." The coach gave a look at a paper chart. "Ryoga Hibiki, eh?"

"Yes."

"I heard you are a very capable fighter." The older man raised an eyebrow. "But I'd like to see that with my own eyes. Care to join me on a spar?"

"Ok." Ryoga nodded, and followed the man to the training mat.

"Now" The man faced him, with a blank expression in his face and a defensive stance. "Give me what you got. And don't hold back, kiddo."

He crooked a smile and charged; waiting to connect a blow into the coach's defenses. To his surprise, however, he dodged and counterattacked faster than he expected a man of his age to be. But he was connecting a blow on  _him_ , who could barely feel punches like this. Ryoga charged again, trying to get a punch in; the coach dodged again and he hit the floor strong enough to raise a loud splintering thud beneath the training mat. Again he stood up and charged, rising up the speed of the punches even if that took a bit of their strength. The coach backed away, sensing that even with faster punches the blows remained still strong enough to make good damage. Ryoga smirked, sensing he had cornered the man as he charged yet again.

Then the coach dodged, grabbed his arm and used his strength to propel him to the floor, and with a leg lock he managed to immobilize him. Stuck on the floor, Ryoga realized he could use a free arm to prop himself into the air and take away his balance, or use a ki attack to send him flying away.

"Hold it, now" The coach detangled himself from him and stood up. "I've seen what I wanted to see already."

"And what would that be?" Ryoga raised an eyebrow.

"You're slow; mainly because rely on your strength too much. Also, you let yourself wide open because you count on your resistance to take hits and blows. When you try to get faster, your attacks lose a lot of your strength, and that's not good either." The coach pointed. "It may work on a street fight or out of an official match, but in the circuit this will take you nowhere."

"Why, you really think you could've knocked me out?"

"Well yes, actually; but it doesn't matter. An opponent may not take you down by KO, but he can be claimed winner by points if he manages to be fast enough to miss your blows."

_"Oh._ "Ryoga tilted his head in annoyance.

"You're not fighting people to beat them down anymore, boy." The coach retorted. "Under my watch, you gonna fight a match to win it. So you've gotta learn to read your opponent, shut yourself from their scrutiny, get smarter and faster yet keeping this brute strength of yours. Seems I gonna have a lot of work to put you fighting fit, after all."

"We'll see to that." Ryoga didn't really want to sound badmouthed to the man on his very first meeting, but he was  _fuming_  inside. The bastard was good, sure, but he certainly got a lot of nerve to belittle his skills like that. "Coach."

"Cheeky-cheeky." The coach sneered back. "But you're right, we  _will_  see to that. Either this, or you gonna be beaten black and blue here, every day." Then he turned his back to walk away.

Then he halted on his way out.

"I almost forgot." Coach Hal pointed out. "Lemos!"

A light brown-haired sturdy boy, whom he picked as one of the good ones on the mat, rose from where he was grappling his opponent and walked towards Hal.

"Yes, coach?"

"This is Ryoga Hibiki, that jap guy who's to train here with you guys." The green-eyed boy nodded, looking at Ryoga from head to toe. "And from now on, John, you're his  _nanny_."

OOO

~ _College's Training Hall, a year later:_

"What the  _fuck_ , Hibiki?" The thudding sound of Ryoga falling on the training mat was quickly covered by Coach Hal's yells. "How many fucking times I told you to dodge, not to block?" The coach raised his fist and charged fast enough to make even Ranma's rather envious of his speed. "You're no good to me if they can hit you when you can't hit them!"

He kept dodging the man's attacks the best he could. No ki-attacks or ki-projections were allowed, so his iron-cloth projections or Shi-Shi-Hokodan weren't allowed. The same with Bakusai Tenketsu – Although the Coach knew a lot about it and ki-based attacks, he scorned them as 'bitch moves' at its best. Anything that couldn't be used in an official match was pretty much ignored by him, and then Ryoga learned just how much he relied on his ki.

But, of course, he'd never admit this to that old fucker.

"I told you…" Said the 'old fucker', still charging at him mercilessly. "…to fucking  _dodge_ , boy!"

"I…" Ryoga leapt. "…am…" Another leap. "…DODGING!" At the last word, he felt his irritation evolving to his familiar anger, but took note of his mistake a second too late. As soon as the Coach perceived anger on him, he immediately used it – against him. A sharp low kick took him off the ground faster than he could think 'shit'.

"Oooof!" Ryoga let out a sharp breath as he hit the floor again, remembering the words of the elder man. 'We'll put you fighting fit, otherwise we'll beat you black and blue every day', he said; and boy, wasn't he right. He never, ever sported so many bruises and welts on his body and face; not even on his frequent skirmishing with the whole Nerima Martial Artists' crew. It seemed to him he was now fighting Cologne or Happosai on a daily basis; with the difference Coach Hal must be significantly stronger than the old crone or that old fart.

"Hibiki" He said, retreating. "Now, tell me: How many fucking times have I told you to not. get. angry?

"A lot" Ryoga said, panting on the floor.

"And you're still getting mad over nothing. And, therefore, open wide." The elder man sighed, shaking his head gloomily. "Next time I'll get Katie to beat you up."

"She's a lot faster than you are,  _coach_." Ryoga replied, annoyed like hell and stressing the irony on the last word.

"Sure my girl is, boy. That's why I'm saying I'll put her to clean the floor with you, not to spar. Now go rest."

And what hurt more is he knew it was right.

"Now  _that_  would be fun to watch." John Lemos, aka his nanny, replied; while done watching the spar between Ryoga and the Coach.

"Shut up." Ryoga retorted. "And the worst part is that I can't even wish you to have your sorry ass kicked by her."

"Yup" John shrugged. "She's very welcome to beat my ass anytime. Even though I'd rather have the fight on some more interesting grounds. Like, my bed-"

"You dolt, just let the Coach listen to you talking about his daughter like that. He'll  _kill_  you."

"That would be a tragedy. Who's gonna guide you through the training hall on your way to the locker rooms when your GPS buddy zones out, then?"

"Shut up." Ryoga snapped.

"And you say you used to be worse."

"A lot worse, by the way. Which brings me to the point of not needing you around me all the time,  _nanny_."

"Yo, buddy, Coach Hal told me to be your nanny, I'm your fucking nanny. Not that I particularly like it, but I won't risk my ass on having you late to the classes and training sessions, sorry."

"Or he'd kick you up on his 'sparring sessions'?" Ryoga snorted, starting to feel the pain of the blows kicking in as his body cooled down.

"Actually, he  _is_  sparring with you." John pointed. "And, as you can see…" He showed some welts and bruises on his face and torso. "…it's not like you have exclusivity on his attentions. It's just the way he spars. It's  _brutal_ , but it works."

Come to think of it, John had his fair share of 'sparring sessions' with Coach Hal. The point was that, by now, Lemos was faster than him and took less blows. On the other hand, usual blows did little on Ryoga; so it was pretty much a draw.

"Eh, Hibiki, where are you going? The locker room is  _this_  way."

« _Shiteru, shiteru, butsu butsu iwanai-de! Bakayaro!_ »(1) He muttered to himself, yet loud enough for the other listening to.

John halted, then with a coy smile turned back.

« _Oshaberi..._ »(2) The american said, much to Ryoga's surprise. "No, you don't know. If you did, you wouldn't be heading that way. Now, care to follow me? This is getting old."

"Wha… Do you dig japanese?"

"Why yes, lived there from eight to fifteen. Therefore, I actually understand how much you've been badmouthing me all this time." John answered, with a mock sweetness in his voice but not hiding his satisfaction on busting him. "Why do you think I was assigned to be your nanny anyway?"

_"Oh, fuck."_  Ryoga's expression said it all.

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

1- "I know, I know; quit the bitching already, asshole!"

2 - "Bigmouth"

Not much more to say, though. From now on, the chapters will get a bit longer, because we'll see what Lost Boy's up to in L.A. Stay tuned!

* * *

Human Being, 02/06/2014

 


	12. Good boy

 

* * *

**Good Boy**

* * *

"With your feet on the air and your head on the ground  
Try this trick and spin it, yeah  
Your head will collapse but there's nothing in it  
And you'll ask yourself  
"Where is my mind?

Way out in the water, see it swimming?"  
 _Where is my mind – Pixies  
…_  


The loud music of the party was rather annoying, but much less than seeing all those intoxicated people making a fool of themselves.

Ryoga didn't want to come, really. Hanging out on a college party on a Friday night didn't sound like his idea of fun, but John showed up on his house and wasn't inclined to let go of his company. And, while babbling something about Friday nights, fun and 'everyone will be there, just put yourself together and try to look friendly for a change', he dragged him to the party at someone's unfortunate house.

John had tossed a shot of something on his hands, and the stench of alcohol was already making him sick. He didn't have a bit of it, but John had  _several_  – and still counting.

Ryoga inwardly thanked the deities above for bringing enough money for the cab to ride him home, because John clearly wouldn't be able to.

"Hibiki" He felt the burden of John's arm suddenly on his shoulder; and the slurring voice of his now (begrudgingly) friend rang on his ears. "Just look at her, man. Look. That wimp can't kick a fucking pebble on the floor and there she is, all over him…"

Yes, Katie was there, all attentions to another guy – who had nothing to do with martial arts and therefore wasn't one of her father's punchbags. Ryoga was well aware that she and John had some serious previous history together, but Katie seemed to be over it by now – and he was still was head over heels for her. Seeing a capable fighter as John drinking himself into stupor to mop over her was painful; he couldn't help to imagine what could have been of himself if he actually had done something with Akane when he had his crush on her.

"And what is it you didn't drink your shot yet, dude?" John glanced at his glass. "What the fuck, are you really into going sober through this party?"

"I don't drink, Lemos." He replied tersely. He knew very well he already had problems to keep his directional issues under check while sober; he couldn't even fathom what could happen if he decided to intoxicate himself. His other ever-present concern – his curse – was locked with the continuous use of the soap, but as a drunk man he got weary of falling into the house's pool. Plus, his father would kill him if he eventually showed up drunk or on a hangover a few days later.

"Pah" The other snorted. "All you gotta do is sticking into not leaving the house, even you are able to do that. And if you do, find a cab and everything's fine."

"And why should I drink this thing?" Ryoga snorted, annoyed by his friend's remark. "To be like you are now?"

"It's way better than being like you are now, buddy." John grabbed the glass off his hand and tried to force some of the liquid on his mouth. "Here, here, try some."

"HEY! Stop it!" Ryoga bucked away, and while his friend struggled to make him drink some of that both were interrupted by the sound of giggling voices.

"Johnny" A female voice cut in. "Aren't you taking this nanny thing way too serious?"

"Kaaaaatie" Despite the alcohol, John's mind processed she wasn't with that guy anymore; then he yelped away from Ryoga, who made a face to the thought of John wailing "Shampoo!" in heavy glasses. At least he kept his composure near Akane back then.

But the giggle he was about to let out choked on his throat when the memory of Akane led him to Ranma.

"…And you are Ryoga Hibiki, right?" A cute freckled redhead pointed to him, cutting off his memories. "I was told you were cute, but damn!" She eyed him from head to toe, and he felt his face suddenly very hot due to his embarrassment.

"You're shameless, Jenny. You'll scare him away, and Johnny had such a hard work to get him outta here already." Katie laughed at his reddened face. Then she picked the shot John was trying to pour down his throat and handed back to him. "Here, Hibiki."

"Ah…"

"Oh, ph-lease." Katie made a face. "Won't you tell me you, all 'fancy-and-promising' fighter, can't handle a bunch of drinks?"

"Well, can  _you_?" Ryoga retorted.

"Of course she can" John cut in. "She's half-russian, y'know."

"Now that you mention it, this is pretty xenophobic of you to say, yankee." Katie snorted. "Assuming that because I'm russian I must drink like a damn boozer."

"Why, can't you hold your liquor then?"

"Of course I can, I'm russian." The blonde blue-eyed girl replied, tilting her head; then looked back to Ryoga. "But wussy here apparently can't, too bad."

His nostrils flared, and he looked defiantly to the shot in his hands.

"There you go!" They all chanted while he gulped it down.

OOO

Ryoga felt himself being pushed against a wall in a corner of the house, while Katie's friend – Jenny, if he recalled well – was snuggling her nose on his earlobe to then plant feather kisses on neck. She was pressing on him everywhere – and his body was very aware of her proximity. His face was on fire and he honestly couldn't tell why he wasn't nosebleeding yet, it might be the oddity of that situation…

Or maybe it was the booze. The alcohol on his system – he had several more shots after that first one – was getting him very dizzy and very horny, but a distant part of his mind still protested about how he always planned to save himself to the person he would come to love. At first, he believed her to be Akane; then Akari, but…

Those plans were called off quite a long time ago, weren't they?

She brushed her lips on his and pressed even closer, demanding his attention. ' _Here, now, with me'_ , that's what all her body screamed at him; and heh – his loins were responding quite well. But damn, it would be the first time he'd go past kissing and making out with anyone; and he didn't even know her – how could he even go all the way with someone he'd just met? However, aside the physical stimulation from the grinding of their hips and the alcohol loosening his control, there was something else drawing her to him, wasn't it? She didn't resemble any of his former female pursuits, that's for sure; but even back then his 'female pursuits' weren't quite able to make him feel as heated as…

_Ah_. Red hair. Not quite the same shade, but… Red hair, like  _his_  on his female form. Then the memories of that day inside that cave kicked in; and his arousal increased mercilessly. It felt wrong, so wrong making out with a girl thinking about him, but he also wanted it to be real – even if for some moments of drunken pleasure. Not quite honorable at all, but what honor had brought him to that date, anyway?

She bit his bottom lip gently, and her hand touched his groins, tugging at the zipper of his pants. He tried to mouth something at her, but her whisper – 'let me do you' – rang on his head with  _his_  voice. Or  _hers_ , whatever, it wouldn't make no fucking difference.

His hands racked her body, and then tugged at the front buttons of her shirt and then inside her bra, his hands touching the bare skin of her nipples while her hands slipped inside his boxers. She smiled, then guided him into an empty room amidst kisses and, once inside, she tossed him into the bed.

He wanted it to be real just for this while, he wanted it  _so hard_.

OOO

The ring of his phone woke him up on his bed, he sour taste of an excruciating hangover as soon as he reached consciousness. He was at home; and he did remember how he got there – and everything that happened before.

"Gooooood mooooooorrrning, studmuffin!" John's voice soared on his ears as soon as he picked up. "Why, no one would say you'd have this in you, eh?"

"Shut up, moron…" Ryoga tried to snap, but his heated response came as a pitiful moan that, even so, splintered his head. "Cripes, I'm feeling like hell…"

"Jesus fuck, your first big score and all you gotta say is that? You've got some serious shit to work out, dude." John retorted, and Ryoga grunted in response.

He couldn't deny it was nice. Actually, it was great; he never felt anything like the rush of an orgasm in an actual sex act – not even when he eventually jacked off on his bathroom. But he also recalled – very well – how it got so great; and who was he picturing in her place that night.

"Anyway, I know I am very very very very very very happy, you see-"

"Don't wanna know." He cut in. "You really shouldn't be talking about that. It's impolite."

"Man, you suck." John retorted. "Anyway, how did you deal with your old folks at home?"

"Didn't leave the room yet."

"Can't you find the door?"

"Fuck you." His head snapped again. "Can't find my way out of this bed… By the way, care to tell how are you so cheery after how much you had last night?"

"I was about to, but you cut me off. Anyway, I can take a lot more than you can, dude. Therefore, I suggest you start practicing the anything-goes martial arts of 'bottoms up'."

Ryoga groaned.

"By the way" John cleared his throat. "How about Jenny? She was a sweetheart to you last night, man. Helped you home and all…"

"She was." Ryoga felt a pang on his chest. Now he'd have to deal with the responsibilities of what they did. "I don't know, I didn't plan it to get that serious, but… I think it can't be helped anymore-"

"Serious?" John interrupted him. "Ouch, you don't need to ask her in marriage or anything like that, you know. But you surely could use some dates with her, couldn't you? Just for fun?"

"What do you mean, just for fun?" Ryoga asked, astonished. "I made love to her, it's not something to be taken lightly. What if it was her first time and…"

"… You took her virtue? Please, dude. Even if you did – which I tell you, it's a reeeally farfetched possibility - I don't believe she even wants you to put a ring on it. You could hang out, have some quality time together, see what happens?"

It surely was a long shot from how he idealized his first time with someone to be, or what kind of relationship would come from that. Besides, he couldn't forget how and why he got into it, at first place; neither his conflicting feels about his turn-ons. Yet, he wouldn't tell why, but 'see what happens' sounded fine.

This hangover was his first of many, many others after he got a penchant for having some drinks to 'loosen up'. And this girl Jennie – who would barely remember his name after they got 'tired' of each other – was the first of many girls he dated and bedded just to 'see what happened'. It wasn't certainly the way his mother taught him to act with women, but strangely his father paid it much less mind than he expected him to. As long as he didn't do anything inside their house, everything seemed to be just fine.

And it kept his mind away of other rather tricky questions for a while. Not that he was lying to himself, he wasn't – he was just not thinking about it.

OOO

_~Several months later:_

Ryoga ran towards the training hall knowing he was late, but for a good reason – he had tests and this time they happened at the same time he used to be training.

" _Oh, well"_  He found the training hall easier than he expected to, despite his GPS had zoned out on him again – It took him just a half-hour. But not even this would save him from the harsh reprimand from the Coach, who was even more psychotic than before due to the competitions coming ahead. Not that he did badly on the previous ones – actually, he did great; among with a few others, John included – but precisely because of this Coach Hal used to pick on his 'dream team' worse than he did to the others.

Speaking of John, he probably would be already there, since his visual communication degree had different schedules. Besides, the tournaments used to coincide an awful lot with their finals at college. And his father was starting to pick on him because of his martial arts training, and God knew how his dad could be an even worse pain than the Coach.

Inside the hall, there was John training with one of the other guys, and an ash-blonde girl was closely watching him and idly talking with him and the others around; her actions showing she was close to him. " _What the fuck_ " he thought, knowing John had been with other girls then and there while on his non-relationship with Katie, but he wouldn't bring one of those girls to Coach's workplace.

Unless he did want to set World War III with Katie, that is. Because even if they weren't officially together, Katie could get ticked as fuck about John around other girls sometimes.

Besides, the girl hardly looked like the athletic type that attracted his friend so much and had in Katie its ideal prototype. Not that he would be into Katie, even if he didn't have his issues it would seem just  _wrong_ ; but he actually could see what John had seen on her – despite her undisputable martial arts prowess, she was a rather beautiful girl after all. But that girl who was now talking to John while he took a break was totally different – poised and feminine, yet trendy in her discolored hair and red lips.

Then Katie showed up, and this thoughts of 'oh, boy' were cut off by the sight of her waving hands to greet the girl, then rushing towards her to happily join the chatting.

Well, since the scenario seemed safe, he decided to get closer.

"Hey, Hibiki" John waved. "Late, eh? Too bad Coach is in a remarkably good mood today to cream you about getting lost again."

He greeted everyone, but keeping an eye on the girl.

"Oh, right" John got his clue. "This is my sister, Dylan."

_"Oh, yes_ " A distant part of his brain reminded him that John did mention a sister before. Sure, he didn't talk about her too much, but still. "Pleased to meet you", he bowed, and the girl smiled at him.

"Pleased to meet you too, Ryoga Hibiki" She said, crooking a smile. "I've surely heard a lot about you."

"And so, Dylan" Katie said, smiling at her. "Where's your mischievous sidekick?"

The girl let out a good-hearted laugh, while she waved her head in the direction of a slender, tall, waist-length blackhaired guy on his back to them; leaned on a sidewall while talking to another trainee.

"Yuri, come here!" She commanded. "Katie wants to see you, honey."

He turned to them, and the first impression of Ryoga came true: Not only his hair looked rather feminine to a guy despite his height and his lean but toned build; his face was way too pretty to be called manly. He had oriental traits as well, probably the guy was japanese like him, but mixed with something else.

The word 'femboy' popped into his mind, and for some reason it made him feel markedly uncomfortable.

"Hey guys" The guy they called Yuri waved, then fixed a rather furtive gaze on him. "New meat on the pack, eh? Pleased to meet you, hon. I'm Yuri Kyione."

Ryoga's uneasiness only grew as the guy eyed him from head to toe, doing nothing to hide his satisfaction on the sight.

OOO

_~Interestadual mixed martial arts tournament._

Ryoga had finished his match a while ago, with a rather predictable victory. John was right, though: Coach Hal methods might be brutal indeed, but they worked. Even he was astounded on the difference on this technique since he started to train with the man years ago.

Speaking of Johnny, it was almost his match's time. And, while heading to the benders to watch his friend fighting, he inwardly bid his thanks to the fact they didn't belong to the same weight category, since his american friend was taller and heavier than him. Not that he couldn't take him down, but he would hate to beat the living lights out of the best friend he ever had.

"Oh, shit", he muttered as he found himself on the wrong part of the big gymnasium. But, as he headed back thinking oh how it'd be a pain to find the others, he ended bumping on Katie; who led him to the right place while teasing his lousy sense of direction. On the benches, there was Dylan and " _oh, damn_ " Yuri Kiyone. The 'sidekick' alias was spot-on, really; too bad for him he didn't enjoy the guy's presence that much. Not that he particularly disliked him, but he couldn't deny the guy got him uneasy as hell. Granted, Yuri wasn't impolite or rude, but his marked queer attitude his blatant lack of interest on concealing it made him nervous when he was around. And the fact he's reckoned to be especially beautiful on his androgynous kind of beauty didn't help matters at all.

A constant reminder of something he was markedly avoiding on himself.

"Damn this queer femboy to hell" He grunted to himself, while going up the benches to sit around them. "I just don't get why Dylan keeps up with him, since pretty chicks clearly aren't his prime interest."

_"Just like you_ " retorted a distant and sardonic part of his mind, which he swiftly shut up.

"Hey, Hibiki" Yuri greeted him, and he forced himself to smile back. "Sit up here, Johnny's match is about to begin, soon enough he'll sport a nice shiner just like yours." He did as the other said, and couldn't help to hear the other muttering. "Such a stupid way to bust his face off, really."

Ryoga made a face. "Why, you worry about it more than he does, really. Or is it you got the hots for Johnny?"

"Of course not." The other replied, unabashed of his irony. Then he fluttered his eyelids in an intentional seductive look. "He's not my type."

"John's  _straight_."

"I know," Yuri let out a mischievous look that bothered him a big deal. " _he_  is."

The match began, and Johnny was heading fast to knock the other guy out. Ryoga had do admit that when John was focused on fighting, he could get fast as hell, yet keeping a great amount of brute strength. Just like…

"Whew" Dylan winced, while Yuri and Katie uncaringly watched John connect blow after blow.

"Yah, now the sucker's showing off." Katie said, and while idly thinking on how his mind drifted from John to… what he'd been trying to avoid, something seemed off on his friend's fight – his opponent was heading his low kick to John's knee, on a really nasty angle. He tried to dodge that, but couldn't do it in time.

"Ow, SHIT!" Katie yelped up and sprinted to the mat, Ryoga on her tail.

"Hey, dude" He leaned by his friend's side with Katie by his side, while the ref was calling a break for Coach and the doctor try and patch John up. His face was a distorted mask of pain. "Easy, easy there. It'll be no big deal…"

"I'll call it off" Coach Hal was worried at John's condition, and no one could say he pushed his pupils too far on a fight.

"No fucking way." John sat up, the pain flaring blindly as he did so. "I'll finish this fucker off, he'll learn very very well how to kick people on their joints."

"John, you throw this fight now, you may keep your knee. You go on, it's your knee you're throwing off."

"Heh, coach" John grinned. "It will not be that bad, you see I'll heal this shit just fine."

"Johnny-"

"Leave it, Katie" He said to her. "This fight, I will end."

Ryoga saw the doctor patch his knee up, and John rose up to face his opponent again. And  _creamed_  him.

But the coach was right: His knee would never be the same again.

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

A bit of hentai? Yep. But it's for the sake of the plot, I swear. Also, we're close to the point both stories will collide - for good. Tomorrow, both will get updates. And, in two chapters, the 'real' shipping plot behind both fics will begin.

Stay tuned!

* * *

Human Being, 02/08/2014

 


	13. Foreign Eye

 

* * *

**Foreign Eye**

* * *

"He sees the city's ripped backsides  
He sees the winding ocean drive  
And everything was made for you and me  
All of it was made for you and me  
'Cause it just belongs to you and me  
So let's take a ride and see what's mine"  
 _The Passenger – Iggy Pop  
…_  


"Hey, Lemos…" Ryoga tilted his head, sprawled on a puff on his friend's house, to where he took a cab after yet another discussion with his father. "Do you regret finishing that fight?"

"What fight?"

"That one you hurt your knee."

"Ah…" Lemos gazed pensively at the television, remembering the events of quite some time ago.. "To be quite honest… When I realized the Coach was right, I thought I'd regret it more than I really did." Then he turned his head to face his friend. "Why are you asking?"

"Man… I always thought you'd want to go pro on MMA for a living." Ryoga also gazed pensively at the TV. "You surely could, and you seemed to like a lot…"

John eyed his friend carefully. "In a way I did, but again to be honest… I could live as a MMA fighter and all, but that was never my first choice on what to do for a living. I like what I chose for my degree, I'd really like to do that for a living. Setting a studio with Dylan and Kiyone, deal with photography, filming and stuff… I love it, I'm good at it, I think I'd settle for that even if my knee was good. Of course I still get some martial arts training just to stay fit and all…"

"…And to be around Katie."

"Yeah, that too." Then John tilted his head. "But why are you asking me this?"

"I don't know, man, I kinda thought you'd take it bad, not competing anymore."

"Fat chance this is it, Hibiki." John eased himself on the couch next to the puff his friend was. "Your father's bitching you around, eh?"

Ryoga let out a pained sigh. Yes, he was - since he was getting close to his college graduation, he wanted him to look for a job and start a whole career as a construction engineer. However, that wasn't what he wanted to do for a living – not by a long shot. At first he thought he'd come to like it and all, but as time passed in college he still couldn't find the hots for doing it for life. On the other hand, he felt afraid of quitting it all and forfeit a rather guaranteed future.

"He's a pain on my ass, the heaven forgive me on saying it about my own father…" He finally said.

"I can feel your pain." John waved his hand. "That's why I got out of my parents' crib and rented this place. But what's it about with your old man, now?"

"He wants me to start working as a trainee in some construction company."

"Don't you want to?"

"No." He shook his head. "And he's starting to get obsessed on it, god have mercy on me."

"I always suspected you didn't dig construction at all…" John pointed, pensively. "But, then, what do you like? Martial arts?"

"Heh…" The question really amused him. "Well, to tell you the truth, If you had asked me this question a few years ago, the answer would be 'hell yes'… Now I'm not so sure, you see. I mean, I like to fight, to stay fit; I like to win competitions and being among the best ones. Sure the Coach made my life hell, but even that I came to like a bit. But if you ask me I'd do this for life… Fight some years, then become a martial arts instructor or a coach? I don't know…"

"My point exactly." John said. "But, if not martial arts, then what?"

"I don't know either." He answered, shaking his head dismissively. "Not that I don't like the life I have now, I've never stayed in one place for such a long time in all my life, but…"

"…You miss getting lost walking around Japan, China, Europe and all southern Asia while seeking your way to your bathroom?"

"Are you making  _fun_  of my problems?" Ryoga raised his voice, angered.

"Sure I am, dolt." John teased, but then got serious again. "But not entirely. You miss the hiking and being in foreign places, don't you?"

"No, of course I…" He trailed off.

Come to think of it, he  _did_. He missed to be at new places, the thrill of being on the unfamiliar territory, the feel of being a stranger to that place, the detachment… The freedom.

"Heh. I surely would if I were you, though." John kept going idly. "I lived a good part of my life as a gaijin in Japan, you know that. A place that I never truly belonged to. It's kind of a bittersweet feel, but I miss being on places that are a stranger to me. The sensation of capturing bits and pieces of a reality you don't belong…"

"A foreign eye…"

"Yes, a foreign eye. Exactly. Sometimes a foreign eye can be more truthful and revealing than anything else. You know how it feels, don't you?"

"I do." He mused, quietly. He did, he  _actually_  did.

"Heh" John snorted a laught.

"What?"

"Seems I'm about to kinda trade my current life for something like how you used to live before, heh?. You know, traveling around, visiting places, taking pictures and stuff... And man, it will be such fun.

Something inside Ryoga clicked.

In a few weeks, he was joining John and Yuri on some of these landscapes photoshoots. Then, the click came back again, and again, and again. It 'clicked' every time he took a photo while borrowing John's camera.

It didn't take him much longer to use his savings and buy a professional camera himself.

OOO

The insistent sound of the doorbell got a dripping wet John out of his bathroom. He opened the door more than mildly annoyed –which could be a problem if you're talking about John Lemos – and, to his surprise, a desperate-looking Ryoga Hibiki was at his door.

"Jesus, man, what's your fucking problem?" John retorted. "Do you wanna break my doorbell or something?"

Ryoga gave a step back as a wet John reached towards him, his hair dripping cold water.

"I can't get wet." Ryoga said sheepishly, and as his friend got away from the door he came in. "God knows I hate to get out of my house on… times like this, but it's a matter of life and death, and I have no one to turn to."

"What the fuck?"

"Lemos" Ryoga said, gulping loudly. "I need to get away from my parents."

"…Why such a hurry, dude? Did your father list you as a trainee in some engineering company without your consent?"

"Worse" Ryoga muttered. "He wants to get me a 'proper job', yes. Also, he wants me  _engaged_."

"…What?"

"That's what you heard!" He squeaked. "He's saying this whole photo shooting and studio thing is a bad influence to me, and graduation is close, too close and I don't seem to give a crap about my future and all that shit of how he'd seen this movie before; and now he's starting with his thing about me setting a family for myself after I get my diploma!"

"But-"

"He SAID the word fiancée!  _Iinazuke_! He said he already had suggestions for my pick! Man, I don't even know if I'm into-" He halted as soon as he realized what he was about to say.

_"I don't even know if I'm into girls that much."_

"Into what?"

"…Into the idea of marriage at all."

"I see." John answered inquisitively. "Well… You could move in with me. You need to get the fuck out of your parents' home, and I certainly need someone to split the rent with."

"A-are you sure? I can find another place…"

"Of course I am sure, dude. I mean it when I say I need someone to split the rent. Besides, it will ease my life when we go to photo shoots and to the training hall."

"Man… Maybe Katie's right, you take this nanny thing way too serious… But thank you, man, seriously. You saved my life."

"Yeah, I'm a lifesaver." John rolled his eyes, smiling. "When do you plan to move in?"

"Like, fifteen minutes ago? Really, man, I'll get my things and move right away, come hell or highwater." Ryoga winced at the mention of water, though. Hard times were those when Jusenkyo soap went missing on market.

"Now, clarify me something…" John raised an eyebrow at his wince. "Why is it you hate cold water so much?"

"Oh, well…" Ryoga sighed. If he was to live with John, he might as well explain him about his curse. "This… All of it started when I went to China and ended up on this place, a training ground…"

OOO

~ _LAX airport, a few months later:_

Yuri Kyione was at the check-in line with his friend John Lemos, some luggage and a pet purse propped on his arm.

"Bwee!" The purse squeaked, and Yuri rolled his eyes.

"Dude, stop it!" The long-haired man fumed. "I know it must be unpleasant, but man, we're saving one plane ticket to China, you know we're just settling this studio and our budget is kinda tight."

"Bweeee!" The small piglet inside the purse made a furious squeak.

"Man, lemme just make the check-in and I'll put you to sleep." Yuri sighed, trying to appease him. "But, for your information, you'll make a far more pleasant trip than us both."

"Bu-kee!"

"You won't go with the luggage, that's for sure. I paid the fee to carry you with me. Now, please, stop noising around or the flight attendant may have ideas, ok?"

The piglet snorted, significantly calmer.

"Dudes, all set." John came back from the flight company service desk. "Check-in done, gear dispatched." Then he looked down to the pet carrier. "Yo, dude, this sacrifice of yours will be remembered. Now, we'll put you to sleep."

Yuri handed the piglet a quarter of a sedative pill. Then the piglet sniffed it, recoiling a bit.

"C'mon, the vet said it would do. Since you won't go in the cargo, there's nothing to fear about." Yuri shushed the small animal, scratching him lightly behind his ears. "Unless you want to travel awake on a plane."

The piglet licked the pill in, and in a few moments was fast asleep.

OOO

Ryoga woke up in a hotel bed in Beijing, after what seemed to him a few moments after he took that quarter of pill at LAX airport. " _Oh, well"_ , he thought, seeing for the first time the advantages of turning into a small piglet.

"Ah, you're awake, finally." Kyione's voice startled him.

He looked up to see the black haired young man sitting on a desk, checking on something on his laptop. And the fact he was naked under the sheets bothered him a great deal.

"Kiyone, would you mind to give me a moment to put some clothes on?"

"What, are you ashamed of changing in front of me? I put you in this bed, y'know." Yuri replied lightly, but immediately his eyes got a mischievous glint. "But not before admiring the beautiful figure…" He made a dramatic pause, while Ryoga's eyes flew wide open. "…Of your cursed form."

Actually, the face he put up must've been priceless, because Kyione was chuckling at the look he gave him. "Now, seriously. You've got nothing I hadn't seen a million times over, dude."

Ryoga narrowed his eyes while Kyione headed to the bathroom, in order to give him the requested privacy.

"Damn this queer femboy to fucking depths of hell" He muttered lowly while getting dressed. "He thinks I don't notice the way the looks at me funny…"

_"But you do look at him funny as well."_  A voice inside his head added sardonically, just to be shut up in seconds. He did, sometimes, but because he felt rather bothered by his attitude. Not that he had anything against him being bisexual – he knew Kyione enough to figure out he didn't seem to discriminate genders (and how on earth could he recriminate someone about it if he wasn't exactly sure of it himself?) – but Yuri didn't even do an effort on being…  _Discreet_  about it, like some other friends and acquaintances he had on college.  _"He's easier than an alley cat!"_  He conscientiously thought to himself.

Then his mind played its trick on him again, kicking in a memory of a college party just before that fight where John got hurt, where he saw him kissing and groping another guy…

_"And how beautiful he was, how good it might have felt."_

Ryoga blushed just at the memory of it, although less than he did at the scene, and at that time – damn that queer boy – he saw him blushing at him.

And then he kept kissing and nibbling the guy's neck, his eyes locked at him.

"So, mister" Yuri's voice interrupted his thoughts. Are you scarce enough for me to leave the bathroom or am I still a threat to your virtue?"

He rolled his eyes in response, then yanked the bathroom's door open. "Where's John anyway? I'm sharing the room with him, not you."

"Guess he's setting our depart to our locations" Yuri went to the table where his notebook was, and handed him a worksheet. "and that's why we need you awake to pick up our locations, and use your mandarin skills."

Ryoga eyed the list carefully; one name popped above the others –  _Qinghai_.

The things of his fate: Jusenkyo came to him when he wasn't really looking for it.

OOO

"May I help you, Mr. Customer?" The Jusenkyo guide received him with a respectful bow.

"Don't you recognize me?" He tilted his head. "It's me, Ryoga Hibiki, the boy from  _heitowennichuan_."

"Aiya! It's boy from cursed black piglet spring, yes!" Recognition finally reached the man, but it didn't keep Ryoga from musing.

Of course, it's been a while he didn't wear his bandanna or his Chinese styled clothing; but was solely that enough from keeping the man from recognizing him? He helped to save his daughter and aided him on some other occasions, and there was also the episode he almost cooked him… Has he changed  _that_  much?

"Yes, that's me." He nodded. "How's Plum? She must be a teenager by now…"

"She very well, mister!" The man bowed. "In school now."

"That's great to hear…" The fluttering sensation on his gut wasn't easing at all. "So, since I'm here…"

The guide nodded, a sad glisten on his eyes.

"The springs no flooded anymore, mister… But waters still mixed, too too risky try something now.

"Yet…"

"Aiya."

Even though he kinda expected it by now… It didn't make it easier to hear. From many sensible points of his past, his curse was one of the sorest.

"Oh, well…" He lowered his head, hiding his eyes behind his bangs. "Anyway, it was very nice to see you again." He bowed to the guide and headed outside his house, where Kyione was waiting for him.

"But mister…" The guide turned his head. "Bird people still have water."

He nodded to the guide in a silent thank. It probably would be a dead end, but he'd lost nothing on trying, would he?

OOO

Ryoga was with Kyione at his side, waiting while Kiima was coming to meet them. Not that he particularly wanted him to be there, but he surely could use him as a human compass and as a pacifier if needed – After all, it wasn't like their last meeting with the lieutenant of the Bird People of Mountain Phoenix took place on the best terms.

"Well, well" Said lieutenant showed up, her old assistant by her side. "If it's not one of those martial artists who defeated Saffron."

"Lieutenant Kiima" He bowed as respectfully as he could. "I am sorry our last meeting was like that."

"Well, wrongdoings certainly laid on both sides, so let's the past be past." The lieutenant waved her hand. "What brings you here, young one?"

"The Jusenkyo guide told me you have some spare stash of cursed water. I was looking for Nannichuan."

"What for?"

Ryoga gritted his teeth.

"The usual. I fell on a cursed spring some years ago, and I happen to turn into an animal when splashed with cold water."

"Turning into an animal isn't sometimes that bad…"

"I turn into a black piglet, not some all mighty winged animal." He muttered.

"I have nothing left of nannichuan, sorry." Kiima tilted her head, pensively. "The only thing I think you might use is the nyannichuan, though."

"Nyannichuan, me?" Ryoga popped his eyes wide open at her."Wha- Are you crazy? What if the curses mix?"

"Human curses don't mix, neither affect your real form. You splash yourself with nyannichuan and you'll turn into a girl if doused in cold water, not a pig."

"No way."

"Then you can stay a piglet."

"Wait" Kyione butted in. "How many spares of this cursed water you have?"

"To be honest, quite a lot."

"Can I take some of them?" Yuri asked.

"Are you cursed as well?"

"No, I'm not" Yuri chuckled. "Nor I intend to use it on myself. But I see your point, and I really think he should at least consider it before declining it for good."

"I've already considered this and…" Ryoga was cut off by a wave of Kyione's hand.

"Are you even certain no one you know will find some use for it?"

"Of course I'm sure no-" He cut off his own angry rant: Shampoo. At least Shampoo could have her cure. Not that he particularly liked the chinese amazon, but he couldn't forget Cologne had trained him into Bakusai Tenketsu. However, the idea of aiding Shampoo didn't ease a single bit of the heaviness on his chest.

He looked at Kyione and Kiima, then nodded.

They left the Bird People refugee with some bottles on their hands.

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

Oh, well... Not much to say about this, besides I really imagine Ryoga as someone who travels and does something very introspective for a living. In a while, however, the two fics will entwine and narrate the same things in different point of views. Then you ask: So, if the 'real' story is yet to come, what is all that? My answer to you on why them both will behave the way they'll do. They're older, but not necessarily better, right?

I'm ahead of myself, sorry. Anyway, stay tuned!

Stay tuned!

* * *

Human Being, 02/10/2014

 


	14. Iconoclast

 

* * *

**Iconoclast**

* * *

"In a land of gods and monsters  
I was an angel  
Lookin' to get fucked hard  
Like a groupie incognito posing  
As a real singer  
Life imitates art"  
 _Gods and Monsters – Lana del Rey  
…_

He was sitting on a idly bar in a touristic city close to Mount Kensei, after a set of landscapes photoshoots. His friends were supposed to be around, but yet he was drinking far more than advisable for someone with his directional impairment in a foreign country. But fuck it, he needed a drink. Several, to be more precise; and here he was on his way to get them.

Yes, he sent the package with a bottle of Nyannichuan to Shampoo at the Cat Café. God knew how hard it was to retrieve that fucking address, but it didn't stop him from doing this good deed. He might as well go to Heaven - if there's a God paying any attention on this kind of shit, that is. And, since he'd already been the good boy – like he ever was – now it was time to have a bit of righteous sullen drinking.

Of course, he'd drink to his curse. He'd drink to how he'd never get rid of turning into  _something_  when doused with cold water when out of the Jusenkyo soap. He never – ever – came this close to a cure, and for what? Just to see his hopes crushed all over again.

He hated that fucking pig he turned into. God, he did. But, for time being, his only hope of getting rid of the pig was exchanging his curse to the Nyannichuan's one. He, a sexually frustrated closet case, had his only chance of being human if wet by cold water if turning into a girl? Talk about practical jokes. But, what the hell, huh? Isn't Ryoga Hibiki the worldwide preferential target of practical jokes anyway?

His drink was going down smoothly, but doing little to fill the emptiness on his chest. His life, under the surface, was still just as fucking wrecked as it was when he left Japan to join his parents to play 'happy family' with them. By then it seemed a good idea... But as time passed, he did everything he was expected to: Got into one of the degrees among his father options, studied his ass off, trained and fought his way into being a college athlete to ease down his tuition on his parents, made some friends, had his booze, did some chicks. Just like any american young dude would do.

Not that he was complaining or anything, since he couldn't say he didn't enjoy himself while fighting, having drinks or getting laid with chicks. But not even the momentarily pleasure didn't fill in the empty space his constant dismay dug into him.

The ever present frustration only eased down when he started to work as a photographer, though. He came to understand John when he said, not long ago, that he liked it and was good at it: The few moments he felt at peace with himself were when he was aiming his camera on the right angle, at the right light, to take the perfect snapshot of the perfect landscape, or even the right angle of a photo model.

However, he knew there would be hell to pay when his father realized the engineer Hibiki he coveted so much was practically a goner by now. His old man would never understand him trading a secure wage as an engineer for taking the risk of making the ends meet from one freelance to another as a photographer. He couldn't understand he was never used to stability anyway, and the boredom the life his father envisioned would kill him – it already was doing just that.

He even knew what would be his father standard speech, it's not like he never heard before about how his "judgment" was nothing to be trusted about. And the saddest part is he couldn't even say he didn't agree to that; wasn't he the one who chased Ranma for at least a couple years out of vengeance just to get the hots for him afterwards? And how, then, could he say his father was wrong?

He surely could drink to that, too.

"Yo, buddy" John sat by his side and tapped on his shoulder. He even bothered to answer with anything but a nod, yet he went on. "Don't you think you've already had a lot?"

He shook his head, gulping another large gulp of cheap scotch.

"Man… I dig you're down because of the cure and all. And I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you…"

"Someone had to be taking care of the photo shooting, ne? I am the one who should be sorry to leave you alone on the job to lose my time chasing something I knew it didn't exist at first place." Ryoga ran his fingers on his bangs, then rested his forehead on the palm of his hand.

"C'mon, man. There's nothing to be sorry about. And, by the way, you've been doing great – your shoots came incredible." John patted his shoulder again. "I mean, really kickass, dude. I've been doing mainly editing today, and yours didn't even need any retouch."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously, dude. I really think you should consider going professional on this shit."

"I like it, dude, maybe that's the thing I most enjoyed doing in all my life, but…" Another gulp on his shot, and a desolate sigh. "…my dad is gonna kill me."

"And because of him you're going to do something you hate for a lifetime gig?"

_"Pretty much"_  He thought, taking another sip. "Ah… tomorrow's shoots are indoors, aren't they?"

"Yeah, dude" John poked him. "Models, man. Models. It's not like you couldn't use some hot chicks hitting on you, right?"

"That's Yuri's thing." He lowered his head.

"C'mon, you know what I meant. Besides, if it walks on two feet, it's Yuri's thing." John chuckled. "Heh, sorry, lame joke. I find it funny how it shocks you, anyway. But… Yuri didn't hit on you or anything while guiding you around, did he?"

"No, Yuri was a dear. It's just…" Ryoga choked on his answer.  _"I wish I had the guts to be like him – do whatever I wanted and don't give a fuck…"_

"Oh, well, let's go sleep."

"Nah." Ryoga tilted his head warily. "But don't worry. Got money in my pocket, plus the hotel address. Won't disappear, I promise."

"You sure?" He nodded warily, and John patted his shoulder again before leaving.

Then he resumed his drinking, just to be interrupted some time later by someone leaning on the bar just beside him.

"So" Yuri crooked a smile to him, and on the dim lights of the bar he looked  _beautiful_. "Are you intending to drink yourself to stupor or what?"

"Or what" He swirled the cup on his hand. "I guess."

"Oh, well." Kyione leaned to the barman, ordering a shot himself. "Johnny had to leave, and it seems I'm your nanny for the night." He swayed his hair out of his face, in another one of those funny looks.

Just when he was too high to suppress the twitching on his groin those looks of his provoked on him.

"Before you ask me again, I warn you I won't use that water to change my curse to a girl, Kyione." He lowered his head and said in plain Japanese; pulling the harsh issues to find leverage and antagonize him to, perhaps, send him away.

"That's not a decision to take as wasted as you are, Hibiki. But I am keeping the water with me, anyway."

"Planning on using it yourself?"

"Not at all. I have no curse, and I like my dick just fine." He smirked. "But if I'd been already cursed to turn into a small piglet with no real cure in sight, I wouldn't think twice."

He grunted, raising the glass to his mouth.

"What are you so afraid of, anyway?" Yuri asked him.

"It's not being afraid…" Ryoga tilted his head. "I just wanted to be rid of that shit for good, and-"

"I'm not talking about that. I mean, yes, I am; but what I am asking is why you're so insecure about turning into a woman instead of a piglet." On other times, he would agree to that in a snap. But right now… Being a woman would remind him too much of things he longed to forget.

So he stayed in silence.

"So?." The other pressed on.

"Are you trying to make me stop drinking by annoying me?"

"It's working, ne?."

"Ah, fuck it." He reached his wallet, paying his shots and heading out to what he thought to be the front door.

"Oi, baby, come back here." Yuri grabbed his arm, resisting his yank to take it away from his grasp. "I'll escort you to your room, dummy."

"You don't need to-" Ryoga's protests were cut off by the yank on his arm; Yuri was far stronger than he seemed to be.

After a while being dragged along the hall to the room he shared with John, he noticed his legs were far less responsive than advisable, as he felt Kyione's arms around him after he tripped on a loose fold of the carpet and almost had his face to meet the floor. Then Yuri steadied him by propping his arm over his shoulders.

"That's it, pretty boy." He sighed. "Since I bet John's fast asleep and God knows he wakes up for nothing less than a nuclear war, I'm taking you to my room instead."

"No way."

"I'm not asking your opinion. If you pass out and choke on your vomit, I don't wanna feel responsible or anything." Yuri said as he opened the door with his free hand. "Get in."

"I said no, Kyione!" Ryoga yanked himself away from him while they got in. "There's no way in hell I'm gonna stay here alone with you!"

That seemed to bother Yuri a great deal, because he pushed Ryoga towards the bed.

"What the fuck, Hibiki" Yuri hissed. "Do you think I'm up to sexually assault you or something?"

" _Actually that would be nice_ " An ever present voice is his head whispered, the same part that alerted him of the other man's proximity all the time the other propped his arm on his shoulders, and registered every hidden promise of pleasure his scent provoked on him. He swallowed hard, not daring to say a thing when his self-control was so eroded by his drinking.

"What are you so afraid of?" Yuri asked him while he stood up shakily, just realizing the great deal of balance he had to muster in order to stay on his feet.

"I gotta go, Kiyone..." He turned away from the other, heading to the door.

"You gonna get lost, moron." Yuri scolded him. "I'll go." And while heading to the door, Kyione pushed him back to the bed.

"…Wait." Ryoga breathed loud enough for him to hear, while lifting himself to sit on the bed.

"You know what?" Yuri said, his hand still on the door knob. "I'm not here to rob your "virtue" from you, or whatever it is you call this stupid closet case of yours. I have shit to do with your denial on how bad you get your hots for guys, and how miserable you get your life to be because of that."

"…You have the nerve to say you don't look at me funny, then?" Ryoga raised his eyes, the lightheaded feel of the booze easing into a strange awareness of how Yuri got affected by him as well. "Will you say to my face you don't get your hots on me?"

"Check yourself in the mirror, stupid." Yuri turned slowly to face him, and his jet black eyes never seemed so intense. "Who wouldn't?"

Ryoga knew Yuri was no Ranma, and probably there would never be Ranma. But he knew that young man at the door – another femboy, another man who defied his established notions of gender and sexuality beyond the brinks of what he considered socially acceptable, and yet affected him as well; promising things he shouldn't want and desire but he badly did nonetheless. Nothing like his desire for girls, not the way he got himself into wanting them, enjoying them and fucking them because it was feasible, easier, expected. It was something else, a sense of forbiddance he couldn't overcome, but he also couldn't resist.

At least not at that moment.

_"What are you so afraid of?"_

He stood up, feeling a faint dizziness while moving his legs towards the other man at the door. Yuri turned to grab the knob again, and Ryoga raised his arm to push the door closed while cornering him.

"Wait." He breathed again, lowering his eyes in a mix of shame and anticipation while the other pressed against the closed door.

"This is a bad idea." Yuri breathed back.

"It is." He said, meaning each word. He knew that since that day on the cave, on the very beginning of the worst idea he ever had. But he didn't move, keeping the other trapped.

Yes, he was no Ranma. This was another person, another man, another femboy; and this was a hell of a bad idea indeed.

But he was tired of being weary of his bad ideas.

He leaned closer, tilted his head and searched his lips with his own.

"Ryoga…" Yuri dodged the kiss and tried to whisper some sense on him; but he was far beyond that. He wanted him – not a projection of Ranma, not make-believe to accommodate things that shouldn't be inside him. It probably wouldn't last, but still that moment would exist.

"Please" He whispered back, knowing this would erode Yuri's defenses and, from that, there would be no return. "Please…"

_"…Free me."_

And at that moment Yuri's lips tasted like bliss, his tongue in his mouth tasted like heaven, the way they pressed against each other and his cock hardened against his own felt like fucking  _freedom_.

OOO

Ryoga took a cab at his college's street, heading for the studio where he settled to work with John and Yuri. The job in China made out a good paycheck and a good impression, and other jobs followed soon enough. Of course, balancing his training, college and the studio was turning into a great deal of a challenge, but still he wasn't feeling bad about it. Actually, he knew it was temporary: He would grab his diploma, shove it to his father and move on with his life with only his training and the studio; and that would be it.

Fat chance, he thought to himself. His father would go ballistic, but he didn't care as much as he did some time ago, on the job in China that he managed to convince his father to let him go without further annoyance because he said he'd try and find a cure for his curse. A dead end as any other he ever tried about that; but at least he sent Nyannichuan to Shampoo – and got into something with Yuri. And  _that_ , he thought, would make his father outrage on him quitting engineering pale in comparison.

Truth to be told, his father didn't bother to keep his constant annoyance on him in check and there was a time it used to eat him from the inside, but not anymore. His proposal on getting him engaged was the last straw on his back and now his cares about what would tick his old man off were the far down on his list of concerns, but still he knew his father would throw the ultimate tantrum of his life when he found it out he was steadily having sex with another man – and enjoying it immensely.

Not that he and Yuri were in love or anything – yes, they felt shared a huge attraction to each other; yes, they were kind of together even if it was a secret between them both only and yes, currently both of them weren't seeing anyone else; but he didn't actually love him, and as he got to know Yuri better he seriously doubted the guy would come to love someone one day. That, actually, seemed to be a common ground to them both, since he didn't let go of his past yet and Yuri… had learned something he envied him for: Getting physically and sexually close to people, but still without letting them  _in_.

That was an ability he truly wanted to learn, though. And, as far as it seemed, Yuri was up to teach him.

"Man!" John waved to him, as soon as he got inside the small studio. "Come here, come!"

"What's up?"

"Check this out." John, smiling from ear to ear, handed him a paper; some sort of contract. Ryoga gave it a glance: a contract for a job of theirs, yes, and his eyes popped open when he saw the wage they were about to receive for that one.

"Ah- What's this?" He was close to speechless. "Are you sure this is even right?"

"This is us, baby" Yuri beamed, taking the paper out of their hands. "This is us, and it's just the beginning. If we nail this right – and we  _will_  – this may take us off like fucking rockets! See who's contracting us?"

"I… see!" His eyes popped again as he read the name of a fashion designer even he had come to know. "Man, it's… Unbelievable."

"Why so unbelievable?" Yuri grinned. "We rock!" Then he turned to John. "Heh, and where's Dylan when we need her? Go call her, this is her hard work too!"

John got up from the chair to call her sister, and as he disappeared from their sight Ryoga felt himself yanked and dragged along by Yuri, until they reached the small storage room, got inside and shut the door locked behind them.

"Hey-" Yuri's mouth covered his, rather anxious and demanding. "Ha- Are you crazy?" He whispered as they parted the kiss, Yuri's grin at just millimeters of his mouth.

"I am happy" Yuri leaned to kiss him again. "I am fucking ecstatic! We're doing it, Ryoga, we are!"

"John's here, dummy!" Ryoga said amidst kisses and gropes. "Do you want him to catch us or something?"

"What, you think he's going to kick you out of the apartment you share if he finds out about us?" Yuri giggled, still kissing him while tucking his hand between his legs. "Let's see: Knowing Johnny boy as I do – and I know him since like, fucking forever – the only thing the self-centered fucker will be able to ask you is if you have any hots for him."

As Yuri's hand worked him, Ryoga let out a muffled moan.

"Do you?' Yuri's hand stopped, as the look on his eyes got dead serious.

"No." Ryoga retorted as he gave a thought about his roommate, Yuri feeling his hard-on wincing. "Ewww."

"That's what I thought" Yuri squeezed him hard, eliciting another moan through gritted teeth. "Now let's celebrate, shall we?" And then Yuri grinned on his mouth, biting lightly his bottom lip as his hands worked his zipper open. His hand wrapped both of their cocks, and a painful yank on his hair got another strangled moan of pleasure out of his throat. He was starting to find out he  _liked_  the pleasure in pain.

_"A pervert indeed_ " His mind whispered to him; but he found himself feeling something entirely different than the usual pang of self-loathing this voice ever brought him. He sneered, strangling his moans, but not in shame.

_"You naughty boy"_  Said both Yuri's hot whisper on his ear, and his inner voice strangled with pleasure.

OOO

Some weeks later, Ryoga opened the door of the apartment he shared with his friend, just to find him in the kitchen fixing something to eat.

"Hungry?"

"No" He answered, just to see the other man on the kitchen shrugging. "Already had something to eat."

"So" John said, while putting the scrambled eggs on a wrap. "Eating out of the diet, eh? Hm, that confirms my theory."

"Which one?"

"You're seeing someone."

"Huh?"

"You never eat out when you're on your own."

"What if I am?" Ryoga answered, a bit uneasy. "Weren't you the one who said I should find someone to cheer me up?"

"You seeing someone isn't my theory, really. This is a fact. The theory thing revolves around how you said nothing about that to me. And you're quiet because you think I won't like it." John shot it out, and Ryoga winced inwardly. "And you're right, dude. I don't."

Ryoga felt a pang on his chest, but a part of him shot back he wouldn't cringe for that.

"This has nothing to do with you, Lemos." He stated quietly.

"Sure it doesn't. But I thought both of my best friends would tell me they are dating each other, wouldn't they? Even though I'd be really hard pressed on calling this thing of you a date" He snorted. "I came to know through Dylan; and you live with me, dude."

He kept dead quiet, and as John stopped talking the silence grew uncomfortable.

"And, to be honest, Hibiki, I kinda suspected it before; but then you started to see some girls, and I thought you weren't gay after all."

"Waitasec, I'm not-"

"Gay? Please, man. You've been doing Yuri, it certainly isn't the straight thing to do, is it?"

"Do you have a problem of me living here, then?"

"Sure I don't, dolt." John gave out a humorless laugh "I mean, as long as you don't have your hots for me. Do you?" He crooked a smile that made Ryoga snort a choked laugh.

"No."

"Glad to hear that." John smiled, then turned serious again. "But it doesn't mean I can't see through the parties and booze and… some other 'Yuri-esque things' you're doing."

John wasn't wrong: After this job for this fashion stylist, things went big enough for his photographer persona starts to get almost as well-known as Ryoga the fighter. And, as they built a name on the fashion scene, college parties paled in comparison to what they were about to face on fashion parties and the entire 'VIP' thing it usually came with. He and John could quite as well pass without that; but Yuri and Dylan were on their element – and Yuri didn't refrain to string him along in a dazzling maze of "sex, drugs and rock n' roll". Of course the 'drugs' part he'd skip because he, as an martial artist and professional athlete at some point of his life, couldn't see himself doing blow or smack or anything; but he did use to get drunk on those parties and, when wasted enough, he really did things he never imagined to be possible. And sexual pleasure – despite a rather problematic issue due to the things he denied himself for so long – showed him its addictive nature. At first with Kyione. Then… Yuri was there, but other people were as well: boys, girls, sometimes both.

And most of it he came to sorely regret later, actually.

"Dylan is worried, man. And you know how she is."

"About what?"

"You and him."

"Ah" Ryoga tilted his head, trying to see where his friend wanted to get: Falling for Yuri was a common ground of a bad idea. "I don't love him or anything. We enjoy being around each other and all, but that's it."

He didn't, really didn't love him; and Kyione told him not to, countless times.  _"Don't fall for me, baby_ ", he used to say while driving him to orgasms he didn't even think possible; but he was cool with that: He wouldn't fall for him, even though everything in Kyione whispered him about lust and danger.

Not because he knew better, though. He'd already fallen for someone else, hadn't he? Because he never got out of his mind.

"That's not it. I mean, that's also a good thing to hear, too, and of course if this of yours was a normal situation between two partners I wouldn't give a shit, but… My point here is you're sorta diving on Yuri's lifestyle." John never – ever – seemed so uneasy. "I mean, I can't say I don't understand, because you really used to be rather restrained… Even  _oppressed_ by your issues, and god knows you do have issues, man. I see you spent most of your life having a hard time on enjoying yourself, and now you're finally doing it and it's like a rebound… But there some boundaries Yuri Kyione doesn't acknowledge, Hibiki. I'm not judging or anything, but… Do you even know what are you doing? Who you're dealing with?"

"Look…" Ryoga paused. "I know you're concerned, I understand, really. I mean, you know me, I'd say even better than my folks; and I appreciate that. But I'm no longer the boy Coach told you to nanny around, Lemos."

"You're not." His friend nodded pensively. "But you're also not the person you think you are now, man. You both are the best friends I ever had, but please don't try to play  _this_  game and be another Yuri Kyione." John said to him. "It works for him, and for him alone. I could say you'd get hurt and all, but it's not even close to the real thing. This party-hard hedonistic shit isn't you. Never was your thing, never will be. You'll destroy yourself."

Ryoga pondered his friend's words carefully. Yes, he could recognize now how this game was dangeros, but… How much of Ryoga Hibiki was left by now, then?

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

Oh, well... Not much to say about this, but no way this one could be shorter than that. Hope you like it; and get around to the next chapter.

Stay tuned!

* * *

Human Being, 02/24/2014


	15. Use your illusion

  


* * *

**Use your Illusion**

* * *

"Lost, but now I am found  
I can see, but once I was blind  
I was so confused as a little child  
Tried to take what I could get  
Scared that I couldn't find  
All the answers, honey"  
 _Born to die – Lana del Rey  
…_

Ryoga could barely believe it's been almost ten years he left Japan to move with his parents to Los Angeles.

Really, it seemed a lifetime ago.

He gave himself a look at the mirror of his bathroom and mused about much he'd changed: It didn't seem to be that much to him despite he did look older, though, but some things had changed indeed. For starters, it was his bathroom, since he rented his own place a bit after he graduated. Not with any money he'd got by working with his degree: He never earned a penny out of construction since he got his diploma and tossed it somewhere around his papers.

Actually, the only thing he did miss about construction was the opportunity of pulling out some of the special attacks of his former wandering martial artist self. Speaking of which, it's been years he didn't use his yellow bandannas – most of them were stuffed along with his socks and underwear at his closet.

Not that he used to stay for long at his place, anyway: Photo sessions all over the world made him travel almost as much as he had when he got lost, but he couldn't complain.

His father went as frenzy as he imagined in his wildest nightmares about him quitting engineering; but by then he was able to make some money out of the photo studio, and he never really aimed for big money on his life. However, life did have its sense of irony, though: their studio made far more money than they expected, almost as if trying to prove his father wrong. Not that he could call himself a rich man now, but he could have a rather comfy life for his own standards: he could take cabs as much as he liked without busting his budget, and he could afford having his own place by now without much effort. The money they had put in the studio, on the very beginning (and much to his father outrage, since he wasn't graduated yet) paid off in kind: Publicity advertisements, fashion photo shoots, editorials and so. However, their ticket to stardom was granted when they got into the good graces of a famous fashion designer of a high-profile luxury brand, who hired their studio to make an entire collection catalog, with a fantastic final result. The studio started to make heavy money as other big contracts came in time, and they hit it big.

But even the prettiest rose has its torns, and soon enough he got annoyed of silly stylists, greedy producers and even sillier top-models. Also, some of John's words some time ago sunk into his head as time prove him right: The party-life and some previous excesses were able to make him very weary of the fashion world; and that would always be a tension point between him and Kyione.

Not that he didn't like Yuri. He did, but now he surely could see what John meant when he told him to be cautious around Kyione, since he could be the dear who escorted him through Jusenkyo and took care of him at that hotel just as much he could be a prime time motherfucking douchebag with a coy smile on his face. Actually, Yuri's paradoxical nature and his party-hard tendencies was one of the things that drove them apart. This but mostly his inability of letting go of things from his past he really should forget.

And he tried. Oh, he  _tried_.

However, as business kept going better and better, opportunity presented itself and they had now the chance another branch of theirs in Japan, where he and Kiyone would be in charge while Lemos and Dylan would stay mainly in America.

And guess where they would settle the new studio? Nerima. If he said yes, that is. If he said he'd go for it, he would move back to Nerima at the end of that month.

He got terrified.

No, it wasn't like he didn't miss Japan. He did, it was his homeland. But he couldn't stop himself from feeling a black hole on his stomach from knowing he'd come back, he'd have to directly deal with a part of his life he wanted to see dead and buried.

He never, ever made any effort to contact his said friends in Nerima, except for the cursed water he mailed to Shampoo, just to find it to be a delayed wedding gift. He should be happy for them and all; but no: It tasted paradoxically sour on his mouth. If Shampoo gave up on Ranma to marry Mousse, it only could mean Ranma and Akane were now a happy couple, right? And why the fuck was he thinking about that, anyway?

He never, ever made anything to contact them both. What for? To rub on his face how he clung to a ghostly delusion that he couldn't let go? He went on with his life, then, as best as he could, but it never went away. Actually he kind of got used to it, like a chronic wound he'd bear for life. However, now he'd come back, and the very thought of it felt like scratching those old wounds with fresh salt. Like, how long could he avoid the reunion?

A part of him kept saying he really shouldn't go.

But, on the other hand…If he ever had a life project, the studio and this career would be it: not being an engineer in America, nor being a pro fighter then and there. This, the art he found as taking still pictures of the beauty his solitude taught him to recognize – and admire – was his forte. And his past… his feeling for Ranma, it took long enough for him to name it like this, it would not take this from him as well.

He said yes.

OOO

Just a few days after he moved back to a loft at Nerima, close enough to the studio he could go by feet without wander off significantly, Kyione started calling him to go out to some fancy bar in Shinjuku. There's been a while they haven't been anything but good friends and co-workers to each other, so he actually didn't feel as much awkward around Yuri when hanging out with him. Also, he was on one of his 'calmer' periods, when hanging out didn't necessarily mean going through excesses that used to markedly annoy him – like doing any other shit than booze, mostly smack or blow. Ryoga  _hated_  that. Plus John would be there too; so if Kyione got a one night stand or anything he'd not end up drinking alone on a fucking bar in Japan.

Yes, because if he got lost on Tokyo, he knew exactly where he would end up.

And there he was, prepping himself in a hot bath with his usual Jusenkyo soap; to then get himself to look 'nice' in a city that would never picture Ryoga Hibiki as a guy who would hang out in a very much likely gay-friendly bar. " _At least no one will recognize you there, dummy_ ", that playful voice inside of him chuckled; and very well had a point. Yeah, because who the fuck, out of his old friends and acquaintances from Nerima,would go hang out in Shinjuku?

That's how he eased down to get inside John's cab when it came to his door.

"So" John asked him. "I guess you never been to a place like this in here, right?"

"Hell yes." He replied. "Not a fucking chance I'd come to this part of Tokyo ten years ago, man."

"Uh, well, last time I checked I wasn't gay, and here I am…" John chuckled. "Yuri said it's not a gay bar, though."

"Maybe not, but it's still Shinjuku. Must be a gay-friendly place – sorry for that."

"Nah, I'm all right." John shrugged. "I'm kinda used to it now. Besides, it's not like I'd go there to score someone, because…"

"Yeah, I know." Ryoga nodded. "Katie."

"But I damn should." John muttered. "Because man, how long am I on this shit?"

"Dunno, are you considering the breakup periods or the long run?" Ryoga said.  _"And if you knew how long I've been hooked to a hopeless crush on a straight guy, you wouldn't feel not half as stupid as I do, man."_

"Ah, fuck it." John said. "Might as well get wasted, anyway."

"You might, but I warn you in advance: If Yuri gets anywhere close to any illegal shit this time, I'm outta there." He muttered.

"Not blaming you." John crooked his neck to a fancy bar on the street.

Once inside, the hazy fog of the club dimmed his eyesight, but it didn't take him long to see Yuri Kyione talking to some girl on the balcony; and looking gorgeous as ever.

_"Yeah, yeah, too bad he isn't your fucking Ran…"_ He halted his brain on the spot, thinking he needed some booze just as much as John Lemos.  _"Oh, well"_ , he thought to himself, to then check on the girl Kyione was talking to. A bit tomboyish, yes, but very pretty. Beautiful indeed. On the dim lights of the club it was hard to tell her hair color, but he was almost positive it was red.

"Huh, guys, this is Kaori Ono, funny chick I just met. These two are my partners in crime- I mean, we're setting a photo studio here…" Yuri introduced the chick; and as she turned to greet them Ryoga felt the blood drain out of his face. "Kaori, these are my friends John Lemos and Ryoga Hibiki."

Once upon a time he'd fall for all the disguises people would throw at him, as the straightforward naïve boy he'd been in his former self. But not now, not after  _that_  face was burned into his brain – and his deepest feels – by years of some twisted joke from fate which managed to turn him into what he was  _now_.

Now he was sure, he was  _positive_  of who Kaori Ono really was.

_Ranma Saotome_.

In a fucking bar in Shinjuku, in a fucking drag.

A part of him wanted to curl up on the floor and laugh himself to death.

"Hiya" He- She leaned on the balcony, crooking her head in a sly manner only Ranma could do. And Ryoga couldn't bring himself to say anything than the meek greeting he gave her, because now he was on a melting pot of mixed feelings: longing, disbelief, fear, anger, sorrow… Because seriously, seeing Ranma again was surely mind blowing; but him in a drag fooling people around got old like what, ten years ago?

And here he was again trying to fool him on it. Not him, actually, since he couldn't possibly know he'd be there but he  _was_  in a club pretending to be someone else, right?

And what about Akane, anyway? Weren't they married? If so, what the fuck was that? And did he really want to know, anyway?

He seriously considered getting the hell out of there to grab the first plane back to America.

"Why, Ryoga… Something wrong with me?" He- She said, and his tongue weighted like iron on his mouth.

"You seem to look really familiar."

"Yah, yah, everybody say that. I must have a pretty common face." She answered, waving her head.

"Actually you don't" Indeed, two could very well play this game. Because even if Ranma wasn't planning to fool him specifically, he surely as hell couldn't mistake his name. "You seem anything but common."

"Ohh, that was a compliment, Kaori." Yuri giggled. "They're not so easy to come from this man."

"Oh, thank you, sir." She bowed in mock demure.

"You welcome." He leaned a little closer to the balcony. And definitely needed a fucking drink.

"So, you're a hot shot photographer just like our friend Yuri, right?" Ranma kept going on with the jig.

"Miles away from hot shot, but yeah, I am a photographer."

"Must be really exciting, huh?"

"It has its ups and downs."

"Aw, c'mon, what could be a down? Lots of traveling, good paychecks…"

"Spoiled people, stupid fashion parties, dealing with some really annoying people… But I do like the ups better than I dislike the downs…" Ranma didn't give out any sign of giving the whole jig out; and now he  _could_ , since they were just the both of them talking. But why would he, then? Out on a night club, incognito as a chick, he must be thinking he found just the perfect victim for a hell of a prank. Just as always. Ryoga giggled inwardly. "What would you like to have?"

"Uh, nothing really, I had a little bit too much already."

"And isn't it a good thing?" Ryoga laughed, already on 'the worst the better' mode.

"Kaori, would you mind sharing the bottle with him... Please?" John butted in, maybe weary of the signs of his own former excesses. Because yes, it wasn't only Kyione who could be a problem when 'out of his mind'. "This twit likes booze a bit too much for his own good."

"Hey!"

"Don't 'hey' me, pal, we're new in town and you're the one supposed to guide us here."

"Fine, fine…" Ranma giggled, and that was quick on almost ticking him off. "I'll share a bottle with him."

He barely registered the scotch going down on his throat. .

"Uh, thirsty, hm?"

"Yeah, a little." Another shot. This didn't look good; being drunk around Ranma must be on top of his list of bad ideas. But what the fuck, hm? Wasn't he playing dumb just like he wanted him to? He used to be good at it even when he was sober.

"What about the models? I thought models would be on the ups, not on the downs."

"You got me on that: I don't like models very much, that's more Yuri's thing. I'd rather shoot landscapes, documentaries and stuff."

"So what do you like about what you do?"

"I have a flexible schedule; it gives me time for my hobbies. Traveling is something I enjoy a lot, too."Ryoga crooked a smile here, thinking about diving in martial arts and his training. It surely would be funny to see how Ranma would squirm his way out of this.

"Speaking of hobbies," Yuri cut in. "Ryoga, you won't guess what she does for a living."

Sure, sometimes Yuri could be a royal pain in the ass, but sometimes he was a fucking  _dear_.

"Does it have to do with dance or martial arts?"

"I'm a martial arts instructor… My stance gave me in, right?"

_"It didn't, Ranma"_ He kept his thoughts to himself, since what came out of his mouth was entirely different. "Yeah, and as far as I'm concerned you must be a really good one."

"You don't seem to be half bad yourself." She poked him at his side playfully. "I'd say even a really good one. Wonder how you keep this alter ego of you."

"Hum, I used to be a wandering martial artist when I was a teenager; I guess old habits die hard." He looked rather uncomfortable.

"Wandering?"

"Y'know, he may be the most badass fighter I've ever seen in action, but he has the uncontestable worst sense of direction of the world. "John butted in again, bringing out the worst subject possible out of the bag. "In college, he used to carry a GPS tracker everywhere he went. Even to the bathroom, I'd say."

"Hey, Lemos!" He shot his friend his best 'fuck you' look. .

"Okay, okay." Seemed John got the hint, but not entirely. "But fear not, Kaori. He's got so used to follow the GPS tracker he actually got a sense of direction on his own. Lousy as fuck, but better than nothing. But he still carries the GPS thingie with him all the time, just in case."

"Hey! It's integrated to my phone, you know." Inwardly, Ryoga wanted to strangle him.

"Oh, and there's the problem I told you about him and booze." John went on. "When he gets drunk he gets all sad and whiny, then loses his sense of direction AND can't operate the GPS thing. In this case, dear Kaori, we trust you to bring him home safe and sound, or God knows where the Hell he might show up. If he can give you the right directions, that is."

_"Why thank you very fucking much, Johnny-fucker."_

"Don't you worry, mister. You're safe with me." Ranma told him in a sultry tone. And, with the booze already getting high on his head, an idea came in. One of the worst he ever had.

"Okay, now that everybody had fun on my expense, let's please drop this?" Ryoga brushed the idea off, but it was one of those insistent bad ideas. Actually, horribly bad and horribly insistent.

He felt a very, very familiar sense of dread building up on him. He needed to get away. Now.

"Calm down, dude, we're just kidding." Yuri clutched his arm, brushing his fingers on it; and for some reason it dissipated some of his tension away "Hey, stud, hold your horses. It seems she digs chicks" Kyione whispered to him. "Was asking about models before you guys got here."

_"Oh."_ Strange tactic, though. But Ranma was never the one to have normal ideas. "Kid me not, you guys."

"There's a nice bunch of pals you've got, man…" Ranma leaned towards him, as if seeking to keep up his attention under his grasp.

"Ah, yes. But they have this thing for picking on me, though."

"How did you meet them?"

"College. Johnny over there was my roommate when I moved out of my parents. I met him through my old coach, back in LA. He used to be into martial arts too, until he blew up his knee. Today… The bastard is a prick, you see, but he's like the brother I never had."

"Your coach?"

"Um-" He took another large gulp of his shot. "Yeah. While I was in college, I used to be into mixed martial arts competitions… You know, college jock. John was pretty much like that, too, and he had the same coach as me. Hard times, but it helped me through college's tuition just fine, though."

"But Coach Hal made our life hell, that bastard." John butted in. "At least, that was what Ryoga here used to say every single day. Didn't you, Ryoga?"

"Fuck you, John." Ryoga rolled his eyes. "Not that the Coach was innocent, but you are an even bigger pain in my ass, for fuck's sake."

"Don't mind them, Kaori…" Yuri rolled his eyes. "Johnny's being such an annoyance because he's clearly jealous of you. Which brings me to ask why he's seeing you as a threat."

Ryoga popped his eyes, while Yuri looked back with a glint of that mischievousness on his own.  _"What the fuck?"_

"I am not! This is a blatant lie from your distorted mind, Yuri." John said with mock indignation.

"Ah! I gotta ask: John, how is it you speak Japanese?" Ranma butted in, genuinely curious.

"My father's company transferred him to Tokyo when I was eight, and we lived here until I was fifteen. Then he moved to L.A."

"But, as you can see, he never managed to get rid of this horrific accent." Yuri snorted. "I mean, I know this guy since forever and he always spoke like a wild-west american sheriff."

"Ah?"

"Yeah, yeah." John rolled his eyes. "Yuri here is my sister's best friend, and we used to take martial arts classes at the same Dojo as I did when I used to live here. And, after I moved back to L.A., he eventually moved there too, to take his fashion and design degree."

"Martial arts,  _you_?" Ranma turned to Yuri, certainly surprised for not picking him as a martial artist before – just as he hadn't, back when he met the guy. Sure, Ryoga already had sparred to Kyione to help him keep up and could see a glimpse of the martial artist he used to be when he lived in Japan; but much more for his own insistence than Yuri's.

"Gotta do him justice" John, the only one of them who saw Kyione at his very best, felt compelled to answer. "Femboy here's not your average fighter, but he used to be amazing at that back on our teens. Before he quit it all, went nuts and fled from Japan, that is."

"It was  _ages_  ago." Yuri snorted dismissively, as he used to do with anything regarding his past in Japan. "I mean, I still practice then and there and keep my black-belt god-knows-how, but nothing even close to what Ryoga here calls 'keeping up'. I mean, geez, the dude trains his ass off almost as if he was going to have a big match anytime soon; diet and all."

"Whoa. And how on earth you guys ended into photography, then?"

"I always been kinda die-hard for fashion, art and photography, and always wanted to make a life out of it." Yuri smirked. "The martial art stuff used to be a gig for my family. I mean, it's cool and all, but I'd never, ever live off of that – no offense, honey…"

"Not taken." Ranma replied.

"Anyway. Despite Coach 'Hell' and all, John was into arts and photography as much as me. You see, he's may look like a thug with the camera, but he's got a really good eye for photos and digital editions – he's not his sister's brother over nothing. And through him we've got Ryoga. We rescued the guy from being an engineer, the poor thing. This, or he would be one of those cage fighters in UFC or something. A destiny Johnny Boy here missed by a fucked up knee, to what Mommy Lemos thanks Heaven to this date. Not that he isn't currently trying to finish said knee off training almost as much as Ryoga, but at least he had to quit the competitions."

"But, hey" Ranma demanded his attention fix again while Kyione and Lemos started bickering about something regarding John's knee. "You don't seem to have a bad knee like John. Did you just decide to stop fighting in the circuit, then?"

"Tournaments and official matches? For now, I think. I like photo shooting better, I guess. So does John, despite his knee and all…"

"And what about Yuri? I dig he's a friend of John's…" Ryoga frowned a bit. Why the fuck was he asking about him anyway?

"He went to the same college as me and always been around him, but it took me a while to get to know him better." He dismissed this issue out of the conversation. "Uh… may I ask you something personal?"

"Sure."

"What were you asking Yuri about, before?"

"Ah, I once saw a photo shoot he did, the chick was really something. I kinda asked him if she was among the friends he was waiting for."

"Oooh… Then, if you're interested on chicks…" He averted his eyes to the bar, his expression unreadable. Then he looked at her, a little uneasy. "I mean, I shouldn't really ask you this, but…"

_"But what the fuck you're doing, Hibiki?"_  His conscious mind shouted at him.

"I see. I swing both ways, y'know" Ranma answered, and Ryoga's brain reeled at the answer. "And you are… Straight?"

_"Again, why the FUCK are you talking about that with him, of all people? Are you insane?"_

"Let's say" He bit the inside of his lower lip with the tip of one of his canines. "I like people."

"That's a really nice definition."

"Yeah, I worked on that in my mind for a while." He did, while thinking obsessively about the very same person in front of him now. The same person who was now pretending to be some bisexual chick for whatever fucked-up reason on that sick mind. Probably just to get to him, of course; but even thinking like that the story made so little sense he was unable to understand the logic behind it.

However, when did Ranma act out of logic, anyway?

"Now" She leaned closer, so close that she got just a couple inches away from him, and whispered in his ear. "I really like to be here, with you."

_"Don't…"_ His conscious mind tried to warn, but it was utterly useless. He leaned his face on her direction, her hands cupped his face, and their lips met each other halfway to the kiss that promised him his inferno.

His mind reeled on the impact of those lips, ten years suddenly were absolutely nothing. She pressed harder, he deepened the kiss. He was gone at the very second she… he looked at him and presented herself as Kaori Ono. Hell, he was fucking doomed much before that. Ten years ago, on that fucking cave. A part of him, the one who was still trapped there, was now here, with Ranma. No kiss he ever shared with someone felt like this one. And the other. Then another.

It was impossible, it made absolutely no sense – Ranma was kissing him, as a girl. Why?

_"Doesn't matter"_ His conscious mind tried, in a last attempt to save him.  _"You're lost."_

He'd always been – He wasn't called the Lost Boy for nothing.

"Wouldn't you like to go somewhere else?" Her voice was hoarse.

"Are you sure?" He nibbled her neck with his nose.

"Yes."

"Would you mind going to my place?"

"Not at all… And your friends…"

"They're big boys, they can handle themselves…"

John's words on that conversation they had quite some time ago about him and Yuri kicked into his mind again, making more sense than ever. " _It's a dangerous game… You'll destroy yourself._ "…He didn't care. Because this time he wouldn't do some random chick thinking about the red hair he was grabbing now on his hands, he wouldn't taste another person on his mouth while thinking of Ranma. This was  _real_ , this was it; to see her coming while he ate her out, see her riding him with an expression of pure bliss on her face, feel her moaning on his mouth while they mingled their breaths together, panting after an orgasm that, if not the strongest he ever had, was surely the most truthful.

_"Truth in a fucking lie? It makes no sense._ "

He was far beyond 'sense', now. Maybe Ranma was using him, curious to find his former rival on a nightclub in Shinjuku and thinking she was fooling him just right. Or maybe…

_"No. No expectations. Not now..."_

He drifted into sleep with his obsession in his arms.

A faint kiss woke him up hours later, along with the memories of the night. He opened his eyes, and there was Ranma, smiling at him.

"Hello…" His voice was hoarse, sleepy; and he didn't really realize when he pulled her close to kiss her face. It could be the last time he'd do it, right?

"Hey, listen… I gotta go… But I'll leave the curtains shut, you sure deserve your rest."

Then that part of his mind – the one which had this penchant for dreadful ideas – kicked in.

"Hey,  _Kaori_ …"

"Yeah?"

"Can I see you again?"

His alcoholic dizziness was now pretty much gone, but he was clutching the blankets and pillows to look zoned out. Maybe the only defense he could claim to have when the idiocy of this line came back to haunt him: A massive hangover.

"…Sure, baby" She said. "Give me your number, I'll call you."

He didn't really understand why he scribbled his number on a piece of paper to give her. She left his house, and he turned on his back sighing heavily.

"What the fuck have I done?" He asked himself. And didn't have the answer for that.

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

Well, well, well: This is it! What comes next, now they've done it?

Stay tuned!

* * *

Human Being, 02/27/2014

 


	16. Retaliation

 

* * *

**Retaliation**

* * *

"The love we shared seems to go nowhere  
And I lost my light, for I toss and turn I can't sleep at night  
Once I ran to you, now I'll rum from you  
The tainted love you've given  
I gave you all a boy could give you  
Take my tears ant that's not nearly all"  
 _Tainted Love – Soft Cell (Marilyn Manson cover)_

_..._

Later on the morning after he had Ranma in his bedroom as 'Kaori', he didn't wake up with that much of a physical hangover. But the moral one was worse than those when he did things he sorely regretted on the parties he got drunk and escapist.

Not that it was bad. Kissing Ranma, having her in his arms and being inside of his female body was definitely the rush of his life – but it was a lie. The worst of all Ranma ever told him.

Under a hot shower, he vowed not to do it, ever again.

_"Ever again is a hell lot of time, pal."_

But he couldn't. Because meeting his old Nerima friends would be inevitable – soon enough they all would be aware of his return, he knew that all too well. And then he'd meet Ranma.

How the fuck was he supposed to face Ranma after this shit? How would he keep his cool around him after what he had that night? Feeling that taste on his tongue, his scent – the same in both male and female form… He had no clue.

Besides, there were so many questions unanswered: What about Akane? Had they married? Were they a couple? If so, what the fuck was Ranma doing on that darned club? And even if he's single, why was he hanging around a club in a fake identity?

All of them boiled down to the same question: Why Ranma didn't undo his disguise and went on with the façade to the last consequences?

Granted, Ranma never behaved predictably and always cared way too little about other people to give a shit about what he did to others while pursuing his own interests. Granted, he was quick on exploiting other people's weaknesses when it came to get him what he wanted. He did it to him an awful lot in the past, even if some other times he'd help him out when he needed, or even out of the blue like the time he dragged himself to that mountain to save his ass. But he surely should know, by then, that random scattered acts of generosity from a guy like Ranma weren't reason enough to turn him into a trustable person. Maybe they made him a 'not-bad' person, but reliable? Not by a long shot.

_"He's not the only one to blame; is he, Hibiki?"_  A voice chanted inside his head, the same sardonic one who taunted him for such long, pointing his flaws.  _"You could've walked away and saved yourself the trouble."_

So, why was he complying into such a pile of crap, and  _willingly_?

_"How couldn't you?"_

He felt yet again a familiar sour taste on his tongue, that one of being lost and uncertain. Also, the sensation of having his life revolving around Saotome felt horrid as always, even if he knew it'd always had, in some way.

If his judgment were good enough, he should fly to America to never come back. Instead, he convinced himself to stay away from Ranma and everything related to him.

But soon enough Ranma's trail crossed his path again. A photo exposition, and there was Nabiki Tendo. And, since information is money, it didn't take long for her to break the news to the rest of the gang.

In a matter of days from the night club incident, he had a phone call from Ukyou and a formal invitation to a party at Ucchan's; a party he knew damn well he shouldn't go.

OOO

The street cab dropped him at Ucchan's door, which looked remarkably different than the old okonomiyaki shop he recalled. Bigger, also. Not surprising, though: He'd always known Ukyou was a capable businesswoman, after all.

He sighed heavily, seriously thinking about turning back and leave. Instead, his feet guided him through the front door. Then he stopped, and stayed still waiting for the unavoidable.

"Holy cow, I can't believe it!" Ukyou Kuonji, former Ranma's 'cute fiancée', beamed at his sight. And cute she was, actually – tall and lean, still keeping her long hair. "My goodness, Ryoga, is that really you?"

"Seems so…" He smiled, a bit taken aback. Nabiki said pretty much the same thing, fawning all over how different he looked now.

"I can barely recognize you, but damn! You definitely changed for the better."

"So you say." He chuckled, trying to appease his uneasiness.

"No, no, wait. Wait just here, don't take a single step out of this spot, you got me?" She turned back to walk through the hall. Then she grabbed someone, her voice chanting. "There's someone who must be dying to hear you scream 'Ranma Saotome, prepare to die'!"

And there was Ranma Saotome, in his male form and looking stunning with his trademark crooked smile. If people were all over him saying he aged well, what to say about Ranma? His beautiful redhead female form he'd gotten to know well by then, since all the intimacy they shared and all; but seeing him as the Ranma he recalled since his Junior High was definitely messing him up just as much, if not more. No one – not even him on the peak of his grudge – could say Ranma was a bad-looking boy; just the other way around; but… the boy turned into a gorgeous, gorgeous man.

"Ryoga Hibiki" He said, grinning slyly. Just as he would if he didn't had sex with him on his female form just a few days ago. Feigning an ignorance he absolutely couldn't after what they did together, unless if thinking he was fooling poor little Ryoga just right. "Long time no see, eh, Mr. P?"

"Ranma Saotome" He smiled back the best he could, barely swallowing the lump of anger on his throat. "Indeed, long time no see."

"I warn you guys," Ukyou said playfully. "No fighting in the restaurant, okay?"

"Sure thing, Ucchan" He replied, yet as cool as Ranma Saotome was supposed to look. "Today won't be the day I'll 'prepare to die'"

_"Two can play this game quite as well, my_   _friend_." He thought to himself, suppressing his raging indignation with years of discipline his new life put into him.

"You won't have to, really" He shot back, also in a mask of cool ease. "I won't warn you when your time's up, Saotome." And that was a good hint of truth, if this fucker can recognize that. Of course not; since, if he knew Ranma well, he must be cackling himself to death on his insides because of the naivety of poor little P-chan… But let it be.

Dangerous or not, Ryoga was  _game_ ; and so let's see who's gonna laugh best on it.

He gave a few steps away from him, just to stumble upon other very well-known face.

"Shampoo!" He beamed, genuinely happy for seeing her with Mousse at her side. And he got to do her justice: If Ukyou kept her status of 'cute' after all those years, Shampoo might just as well be a photo model anytime. Same thing could be said Mousse: He was still a little bit taller than he was, keeping the long black hair and, apparently, seeing fine without his glasses; and his clinic eye spotted him as good photo material as well. But despite Mousse's handsomeness, he didn't have the "it" that could make him turn his head towards him… like Ranma.

Or it was just his eyes, dulled to everything else since that fucking day in that cave.

The ex-amazon hug him hard as soon as recognition sunk into her, whispering her thanks for the cursed water that got her rid of her curse. Then they engaged on a conversation where he mainly told them about what was he doing on China and then about how he turned into photography for a living and how he was managing to walk around the hall without getting lost.

The conversation didn't last much, though. Soon enough a short-haired lean woman, not as pretty as Ukyou or Shampoo, but still very cute, cut in to demand her introduction to Ryoga. Not that it was necessary: He still could recognize Akane Tendo anywhere.

"My, Ryoga?" She beamed, her brown eyes glinting with happiness. "Geez, you… Nabiki was right! Look at how much different you look!"

"Nah, come on, Akane." He shook his head while smiling dismissively. "You, on the other hand, look as good as ever! Do people still ask your ID around or what?"

"Very funny, mister." She said, and the 'mister' on her mouth immediately reminded him of her  _iinazuke_. And that, mingled with the memory of what they did on that night, made his chest heavy with guilt. He couldn't suppress a wince; very similar to the way he used to behave around her in his teens, but completely different on its core. "But still, what is it you're a photographer? I wanna know everything about it!"

"That's quite as plain as it sounds: I quit my degree to take photos for a living. Y'know, like Nabiki" He shrugged, and was rewarded by her gracious laugh for the lame joke. "And much to my dad's amusement I'm not living in my old tent, or under the bridge. At least, not yet."

"Ah, c'mon, Ryoga, you'd be successful on everything you get yourself into." Akane chided, jokingly. "Because Nabiki saw your exposition, she said you're really talented; and you know she's got an eye for photography as well. Especially the commercial branch of it."

"That about Nabiki I really have no doubt about." Ryoga took a sip of beer. "But no, I wouldn't be successful in construction. Yuck."

"What about L.A.?" Akane asked, her eyes glinting with curiosity. "You visited Hollywood, right?"

"Hell yes, I did. I'd not live in L.A. if I've never been to Hollywood or the Hall of Fame."

"My, I'd die to see it."

"Akane, you must. It's better than you imagine in your wildest dreams." Ryoga beamed, trying his best to act natural around her. "Ah, wait, do you still have your hots for acting?"

"Well, lately I've been into it then and there, but much more as a hobby."

"Careful. Mine with photography started a hobby as well." Ryoga replied, and the sight of Ranma in his peripheral vision made him swell in a mix of guilt and anger he barely could keep from showing in his exterior.

By the way, what was that with them both? Because they were apart, keeping sort of a distance from each other; is it possible they're still on that old engagement shit?

Nabiki then called her sister, and Ryoga got the opportunity to get some information about it.

"Hey, Mousse" He called the chinese young man discreetly. "Care to flash me the news here?"

"About?"

"What is it with Ranma and Akane?" Ryoga lowered his voice. "I mean, when I found out you and Shampoo got married, I thought she gave up on Ranma because he finally made his mind about his problem with multiple fiancées…"

"Why, thanks for thinking Shampoo wouldn't choose me on her own free will."

"Cut it out, man." Ryoga rolled his eyes. "Everyone here knew back then he'd choose Akane over all the other fiancées; but Shampoo was bound on her honor to marry him, right? Even if she did want you back then, she would have to deal with Cologne…"

"Yeah, right." Mousse shrugged.

"…Ah, screw it. What's about them, they still engaged or what?"

"Oh, man." Mousse popped his eyes. "My bad: you don't know. Actually, they got married a bit later you left to America."

"Ah." Ryoga felt a black hole opening on his stomach. However, he steadied himself the best he could. "Well… They surely don't look like your average happy couple, though."

"They divorced a year ago." Mousse replied in a low voice. "Now, at least, they look civil around each other. But while they were married it didn't seem very pretty, and my bets are Ranma took the worst of it, since Akane already has someone new in sight. I'm not really sure he got over her, y'know…"

The well on his stomach ate him whole, while Mousse continued talking about the rather problematic marriage Ranma and Akane had. Now he could get the picture just fine: They had married, and – of course – it went wrong. Probably Akane finally got tired of him stomping his foot in his mouth, or of the whole fiancées situation, or just of his selfishness and lack of consideration to anyone but himself; certainly she wouldn't run out of reasons. And, once spent, she'd told Ranma to fuck off and went on with her life, thus hurting his pride.

And everybody knew how  _low_  Ranma Saotome could aim his blows if his pride was at stake.

Before he could realize it, Akane was back to keep talking to her.

_"Good."_

"My, my, Ryoga." Akane said. "You changed a good bit..."

"Oh, c´mon… I didn't change much more than you all did."

"Indeed, you did. Photographer, you? My, I wouldn't see it coming in a long shot." – Ukyou complied.

"Why yes; photographer, me!" Ryoga laughed, keeping his anger in check just like Coach Hal taught him, years ago. On the corner of his eye, he could tell Ranma must already be jealous of the attention gathered over him. "C'mon, Ukyou, how would you see me after all those years? As an engineer?"

"Why you, Ryoga, it seemed to me much more likely than you taking pictures for a living and making money out of it, ne?" Ukyou answered, poking him.

"Or getting lost from L.A. to Nerima and tryin' to beat me up one more time over a bread feud. That sounds more likely."

The group fell in silence for some seconds, maybe surprised for the lack of tact Ranma's words had; but Ryoga saw absolutely no reason for surprise: This was just Ranma being Ranma; and yet again he got just what he wanted, Akane was glaring daggers on him.

And to think he once believed he had considered him at least a friend when he went to that mountain to save him. Fat chance. He could bet his very life Ranma did that out of what he does everything else: His giant Ego.

"So, Ryoga, as you're not with Akari since ages ago…" Ukyou cut in. "Rumor has it you're single. Anyone in mind?"

On other situation, he'd not like the question or the mention to Akari; but on this particular one it came just perfect. If this was a game, it was his time to play. And using his foe's favorite weapon: exploiting the opponent's weakness.

"Not yet." He said. Yeah, Ranma, not yet. Kaori didn't win his 'heart', 'she' would have to work her way up to it, and work it fucking good. And even though he wasn't directly looking at him, he literally felt it hitting right on spot.

"Ah, but it shouldn´t be a problem…" Nabiki said to him. "I gotta say that you're a much better catch now than then, if you know what I mean. So, are you available?"

"Nabiki!" Kuno said in mock outrage. "I'm right here, you know…"

"Yes you are, but I heard through the grapevine our Ryoga here is making good money on his shoots. And I always had a talent on taking pictures for good cash, hadn't I Kuno baby?"

"Ooohh, As I see, Mr. P stole my place as "Most wanted bachelor in town!" Ranma said, frowning mockingly. "This may be the first time he wins me on something."

_"Jackpot."_

"Nooooo Ranma. You know you'll always be Nerima most wanted guy ever!" There was Nabiki, mocking Ranma as always and getting good laughs out of everyone. But he didn't laugh, though. Despite it all, he was  _furious_.

"Nah, Nabs. I ain't no hot shot, you know that…"

"No hot shot? You gotta be kidding me, Ranma." Mousse, pretty tipsy himself, started babbling. "I know a bunch of people that would come to you in a second if you just whistle at them. Thanks God Shampoo is not included anymore and neither is Ukyou, but the rest of Nerima girls are clearly interested…"

_"Sure they are, aren't they?"_ Ryoga thought. Let him believe it. The bigger the height, the bitter the fall.

"Well, who am I to contest that, eh, Mousse? We all know the say, Ranma Saotome always wins." Ryoga raised his drink for a toast, in which everyone joined him. "Let's celebrate, guys… To Ranma!"

_"Enjoy it while you can."_

It didn't last long, though, since Akane, yet glaring death to Ranma, soon enough took him to a rather isolated corner to, maybe, give him a good speech on his bad behavior. In time, Ranma was back, and indeed more civil than before.

Which, of course, brought the 'million-dollar' subject revolving on everyone's minds: The martial arts showdown between Ranma Saotome and Ryoga Hibiki. Then someone had the idea: Him training martial arts in Nerima, with Ranma Saotome as a sparring partner.

_"Oh-oh"_  He knew sparring with Ranma after what they did on his very own bed was a hell of a bad idea. Even if it hadn't happened, he would still be very hard pressed to contain himself around Ranma, not like he did on that day, on the vacant lot where they sparred for the last time.

"Ryoga, c'mon" Akane pressed on. "You won't want to lose the edge you trained so hard to get, right?"

"Oh, well…" Ryoga's mind was working hard to find a way out of this one. "I'm not into competitions anymore, and the studio will keep me a lot busy…"

"So you quit training for now?" Mousse asked, genuinely curious. "Because by your stance, it really seems you didn't; much the other way around."

"Well, no…"

"Well, if you're still training" Akane pointed out. "You might as well do that on the Main Dojo, where Ranma teaches and trains. Of course you guys won't duel or anything; but I don't really see anyone better to keep you fit than him…"

Probably the worst idea on all the realm of bad ideas, if everything's considered; and if he still possessed something with any resemblance to a good judgment he'd give it a big no-no.

"…Right, Ranma?"

"Well, yes. I am curious to see what new tricks Ryoga had learned. Not that they would help him not getting his ass kicked, but still."

"Okay, then" At the spot Ryoga knew it went all through the fan. "I actually owe Ranma some sparring sessions – and some good beatings as well…"

"My, now we're talking like the ol' times" Ukyou giggled.

Ryoga came back to his house with a foul taste on his mouth, and at home he felt seriously into the mood of trashing the apartment out. But he didn't – venting sheer anger at that point would be painfully pointless. He got himself into this mess despite all his feelings towards Ranma, but that fucker would learn the worst way possible he wasn't poor little lost Ryoga any-fucking-more.

Now, he wouldn't break stuff, get lost or cry himself into depression, not anymore. Despite that day on that fucking cave, despite the perfection he experienced on the night they shared together – no,  _because_  of it, because of his lie, of Ranma using him all over again to whatever the fuck he had on his sick mind… He owed this to Ranma, and to himself.

Now, he'd wait. And wait he did, but not for long: On the very morning after Ucchan's party, 'Kaori' gave him a call.

That ship had sailed.

_"Oh yeah, just like the ol' times indeed,"_

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

Well, well... Ryoga also really shouldn't. Or should he?

Stay tuned!

* * *

Human Being, 03/06/2014


	17. Sucker Punch

* * *

**Sucker Punch**

* * *

 

"I'm on a roll  
I'm on a roll this time  
I feel my luck could change  
Kill me, Sarah  
Kill me again, with love  
It's gonna be a glorious day"  
 _Lucky – Radiohead  
…_

The cab stopped in front of a rather empty pub, and Ryoga stepped out facing the place with very much the same look he sported when facing an official match. Not the raging scowl he used to have when facing Ranma Saotome on his teens, but an mask devoid of any kind of feelings that could be used against him. " _Don't let your opponent read you_ " chanted the voice of Coach Hal on his head, while he got inside the pub to find Ranma-  _Kaori_  sitting on the bar, and smiling at him.

He fought with everything he had to keep the hole on his heart to reach his face.

It was painful, yes, but he wasn't  _– wasn't_  – poor little gullible Ryoga anymore. Just as much he saw through Ranma's disguise this time, he also could lie, he also could deceive, if that's what it takes to win that game.

He sat beside her and wore his best date face to play along. And reciprocated each of her-  _his_  moves: They talked, laughed, he pretended to be amused by what they allegedly had in common, she behaved just like a chick would do to keep him entertained. She enticed him, he touched her, in a dance that only from the outside resembled a date between a man and a woman.

And Ranma-  _Kaori_  made it very clear he wanted to have sex with him – again.

A part of him wanted to – oh, so badly. Because yes, there was a stupid Ryoga inside of him who wanted to be with her- him all over again, and let it be damned if Ranma was just using him up to get to Akane or whatever shit he had on that sick head of his. But then there was another Ryoga who wanted to shout at him how much he was a jerk, a prick, a blatant motherfucker who felt no shame at all on screwing him up on his way to what he wanted… Just as always.

The Ryoga he was now leaned to accept her kiss, to take her to his home, to fuck her again because he would do it all – not to give in to the thing he felt for him, nut to make Ranma sink on his own well of lies to then, only then, give him the fatal blow.

" _Don't fall for me_ " Yuri taught him how to give and get physical intimacy without getting involved. He taught him how to play that kind of game Ranma was playing now, and there was no better teacher on that than Yuri Kyione.

But it didn't make her taste on his mouth less addictive, neither kept him from closing his eyes in pure delight when the memories of her touch in that cave, or the feel of their first kiss kicked in and mingled – yet again – with the present touches, kisses and gropes they shared; and almost sent him right over his edge due to the sensorial overload.

 _No_. He would not give in, not even if he was hearing her panting hard on his ear, whispering his name – " _Ryoga_ " – while riding him to her orgasm. Not even when the sound of his very name made his heart wince inside his chest, and his tongue almost slip out the real name of the woman he was now having sex with; the urge of whispering to 'Kaori' the name that would call it all off rolling on his tongue from one thrust to another.

" _Ranma._ "

He shut his eyes close and pressed her against himself, clutching her while he felt her body contracting around him while she milked an orgasm that almost –  _almost_  – got him out of his control. And yet again  _his_  name didn't reach his moans and hungry pants for air.

Her fingers traced his collarbones after they finished off, the touch sending electric jolts all over his body – spent by now, both physically and emotionally, but he smiled back at her to feign being just tired of all the sexual activity.

"She" asked him to see him again, and his mind shouted at him  _no_ , no more of this game. His heart shouted at him he wouldn't – couldn't – take it anymore. It wasn't like Yuri, it wasn't like anything he was used to. Even more than that: The only reason he didn't fall from Yuri wasn't his teachings about how to shield his heart; it was because he'd fallen already for someone else – the very same person he had on his arms now. He was far too deep already.

But he wouldn't give in, wouldn't concede his worst rival his victory, no matter what. No matter what…

He said yes.

OOO

He was getting out of his studio, the weariness on him didn't diminish even days after the last time he'd been with "Kaori". He said yes to that time, and then to another, and another, and another; so soon enough him and "Kaori"were seeing each other on a very regular basis. Each one of those dates were able to set his body on fire just to the thought of it, the memory of her taste on his mouth a powerful reminder of the best and the worst he ever felt. He was trying hard to keep up with the farce, yes, and lure Ranma to the trap which would pay him back oh-so-perfectly; but his endurance was eroding much faster than he thought. Seeing Ranma pretending to be a dream girl to him was sometimes very infuriating; but what hurt him the most was the part of him who wanted – craved – all that lie to have a hint of truth. Even the slightest one would do.

As he headed to the street to go home, a way too familiar voice called him in, freezing him into place.

"Well, well, Mr. P… Such a coincidence, eh?"

_"Fuck."_

"Looking for a cab?" Ranma said, and Ryoga couldn't bring himself to do anything but nod. "I can give you a ride."

"Oh, thanks, but you don't have to, really. I live very close to here, a block away or so." Ryoga said dismissively. " _And you already know that; don't you, motherfucker?"_

"And can you get yourself there without ending up in Hokkaido?"

"Why yes, didn't you see it on Ucchan's?"

"Yeah, I did." Ranma smirked. "But I'm not up to take any chances. I'll walk you there."

"You do-" Ryoga halted, getting the point of what Ranma was doing. He wasn't walking him home out of nothing, just to be  _nice_  – he was checking on him.

Checking for an  _opening_.

"Suit yourself, man." He shrugged. "It's this way."

They walked together for a minute, and soon Ranma broke the silence.

"So" He said, in an obvious effort to sound nonchalant to Ryoga. "Have you resumed your training already?"

"Not a proper training, but I work out then and there."

"What about the sparring sessions you owe me? 'Sides… I could use a college athlete to spar with, maybe learn some new tricks…" Ranma raised his eyebrow,

"You mean, me sparring with you? On a regular basis?" Ryoga knew on the spot he'd reached his point.

"Yeah, what'cha say?"

_"Sparring with Ranma after you've been fucking his female form is really, really the worst idea you could ever have."_

"Oh, well… Certainly the studio will keep me busy, man. I don't know if it's gonna work out on a regular basis and…"

"Are you gonna tell me you've gone  _soft_ , Mr. P? You vowed not to."

"No, not at all" Ryoga crooked a faint smile. "Name the place and time, I'll be there. And, before you say anything, I won't let you waiting for, like, three days."

OOO

He arrived at the dojo in time, not a minute late. He made sure of it, with more willpower he usually gave out to meet "Kaori", because this time… It would be the "real" Ranma. Under the guise of a sparring session between old friends, sure; but not quite.

A preview of their match, perhaps? He couldn't tell, there was no way in hell he could foresee how that shit would really end.

But he would not give in, that simple.

And there was Ranma, waiting for him in his white gi and his black belt. Inwardly he thanked any deity who was up to listen Ranma didn't have the idea of appearing in his old chinese red shirt and black pants, because that would've been too much; but the vision of the fighter Ranma had become didn't go much easier on him. Beneath the loose gi, he could tell the finely tuned body of the best martial artist he'd ever met, evolved to what was said to be the best fighter of his generation. There were also the cocky stance, the male handsome face he always had, the azure stormy eyes that haunted him for so long, shadowed by his bangs.

A hell of a bad idea indeed, and maybe call it all off would be the best to do at this point.

"So" Ranma paused, seeming not to be affected by the fact they both had been very intimately together not long ago, when Saotome was playing his "Kaori" drag on him. "It seems you did your homework. Let's see what you got."

 _"Motherfucker"_ Ryoga was mad, even more than he thought he could ever be; but he surely didn't spend years getting beaten by Coach Hal over nothing. He was mad, he was fucking furious, but he could sense a test when he saw it, because that was what it was: a fucking sick test of Ranma Saotome on some sick fucking thing he wanted to get. And he would not give in.

He assumed a defensive stance, and waited Ranma to charge.

_"Let him come."_

He did, striking at him with a fast punch, but not even close of the best he could do. Easy to dodge, and so he did. Ranma didn't expect him to, though.

"Hmm, you've got faster, I see."

 _"I sure did, motherfucker"_ A part of him wanted to show Ranma how fast he got by hitting him square in his face while his guard was down, but no. Sending him into berserking mode must be one of Ranma's goals with all this shit, and if he did he could blow it all up. He'd have his payback, yes. At his pace, at his time. And not even the legendary speed of Tenshi Amaguriken would get him out of that.

Ranma charged again, much faster this time, but again he was able to dodge.

"You're holding back."

"Of corse I am" Ranma chuckled. "I don't wanna hurt you."

Ryoga was now fighting hard to keep his wrath in check. Underestimating him? He would see-  _No_. Ranma was taunting him. And he wouldn't give into such provocations, he wasn't that person anymore.

He smiled back at Ranma, showing off his fangs in a sardonic grin he'd be able to recognize if he knew him well like his friends from America. Then he approached Ranma rather slowly but wide open.

 _"Then I'll underestimate_  you." He grinned, inwardly taunting him back.  _"Come and get me."_

It worked. Ranma charged again while he was open, much faster and stronger this time; reminding him of Coach and Katie's blows – hard and fast. He dodged, much more on instinct instilled on him by Coach Hal on not getting hit than any conscious reaction, and Ranma kept charging, to the point he had to block him.

"So" He smiled at Ranma, laughing inwardly to know that this wasn't an official match, and seriously – Ranma had to hit him much harder than that to knock him out. "Now are we getting serious?"

 _"Not so funny now, eh?_ " He leapt and struck Ranma with a roundhouse kick, he dodged. Still as fast as ever, and he counterattacked while Ryoga was still landing on the ground, he dodged. Soon enough his fighting instincts told Ryoga his best ground to that match was the floor; and he grabbed Ranma to bring the fight there. But Ranma wasn't only still as fast as before, if not faster; he was also stronger than before, and managed to break free.

He charged again, this time holding absolutely nothing back on his strength and his speed. 'Let's see if the Heir the Tendo-Saotome Anything Goes Martial Arts School lives up to his name', he thought, just to find out – rather marveled, he must admit – that he did. A part of him was already giving up to the very old urge of attacking Ranma with all his might, like in a life or death matter; but no – This urge could take the best out of him like it did so many times, and he would  _not give in_. Also, this was a sparring session, not a match.

Not the match they must have, when the time comes. He retreated, seeing Ranma panting, heated by the workout and the adrenaline of the fight, but also because of their ever present connection as fighters, martial artists… And lovers.

" _Fuck_." A crackle on his armor, the thought of Ranma as Kaori, and Ranma charged at him, trapping him into the ground. He thought he'd be doomed, but no: As Ranma pressed on him to trap him into the ground, his armor cracked as well; and the cocky look on his eyes vanished into something else; much more intense.

He stood still, unmoving, as Ranma kept pressing him to the floor; face inches from his, undeniably just as affected by his proximity as he was. The heat of his body and the weight of Ranma reeled his mind, mingling the memories of him, Kaori, Ranma now, Ranma then, in that cave…

" _No_ " His mind urged " _Not here, not now, you WILL NOT give in…"_

 _"Enough"_ Both his mind and his voice rasped, breaking the fight, the moment, blowing it all away. Ranma did, almost immediately. Then he turned his back to him, panting heavily while trying to control the raging arousal of his body, and by the silence at the dojo he supposed the other was doing just the same. It could have counted as a victory, but not when his cool and control were literally shattered by the closeness of Ranma's body to his, in a mere moment where he let his guard down.

That was a game which could doom them both.

"You kept your vow… You still can hold a candle to me in a fight." Ranma said, the usual cocky tone of his voice completely missing despite his try to sound sly.

"Why, thanks" He answered, trying his best to sound ironic and nonchalant. "You also gave me a good workout." He needed to go, fast. He was managing to get a grip on himself, but he knew it wouldn't last for long. The scent of sweat and Ranma all over the place was managing to get to him.

"We…" Ranma said, watching him prepare to leave. "Should fight for real some time."

He gazed at him, and positively didn't know what to say. Because Ranma simply  _couldn't_  be serious – not after this, not after all their façade almost slipped away the worst way possible for just some moments of mutual distraction. He simply couldn't be up to go on with this, he couldn't do this to him, couldn't he see what he was doing to him?…

"Tomorrow at the same time, Mr. P?"

"Tomorrow at the same time" Ryoga answered, bowing mockingly to the dojo teacher. " _Sensei._ "

He left, his head screaming at him he must've gone fucking nuts, but he would  _not_  give in. If Ranma was up to this fucking shit he called game, so was he.

At home, he was seriously thinking about breaking some stuff; and the only thing that managed to get him from doing it was the fact he knew if he started, he wouldn't be able to stop himself. The rage, however, was still mingled with that damned arousal that refused to leave his body, since Ranma's scent was still all over him.

His hand brushed his hard-on, and no cold shower would cut it off, he knew it far too well, even if he wasn't locked with the soap and all. He always refused to do it consciously thinking about Ranma, even though his presence was there every time he touched himself when younger, after that day… But he couldn't have this power over him, making him jack off like what, a fucking teen ager? And what for? Why the hell was Ranma doing this with him? And why the hell was he playing along this kind of fucked up crap?

A stronger grip on his cock, and his phone rang; he didn't even have to pick it up to know who was calling. He answered, and "Kaori"'s voice on the line told him some lame story about how she woke up thinking about him and then got all fired up and yada yada yada. " _Yeah right_ ", he thought while 'she' cut just to the point: She wanted to meet him. He told 'her' to come by his place, he wasn't in the mood for going out and courting. Soon enough 'she' showed up on his door. " _Good_ ", he thought, because this would be perfect to dismiss the aroused frustration of their previous spar. No fancy words, no chit-chat, just the raw desire between both of them – he knew Ranma felt it, too; he must, otherwise he wouldn't show up so often to get laid with him, right?

But the more they kissed and pressed against each other, the more their gropes and yanks resembled their former 'sparring' session in a twisted – and erotic – way. Not that he found it bad, he didn't: The anger mixed in the arousal was a serious turn-on, and the resemblance was supposed to help him get back at Ranma, pour on him some of that angry sexual tension he left his dojo with. But all the grappling was also fueling that side of him who wanted to be there, which was bound to Ranma in a way he never could explain how, or why; sneakily getting at him to erode his defenses and bind him even further to the same person who was now using him up.

He threw her at his bed, both of them rushing in an urge to get rid of their clothes, and as soon as she was undressed enough he grabbed her to toss them on her stomach and force her on her fours. A part of him couldn't believe what was going on his mind, trying to do  _that_  to no less than Ranma, but he was so angry – and hurt – he wouldn't matter if she kicked his balls and gave him a fucking beating for that. Or, maybe, that's what he wanted – to force Ranma out of his disguise and get the fucking truth out of him. "She", however, did nothing but brace herself as he lubricated her and got himself inside her ass. "She" didn't even wince, but her strangled moan gave away her pain. He reached his hand to jerk her off, and soon enough he could read the pleasure on her, his fingers slick with her arousal. He went harder, he wanted her to feel pain, but no – she was enjoying it, twerking and milking him the best she could. One stronger thrust, and his name on her voice, moaned in a hot whisper of pleasure, sent his control away. The orgasm came like a landslide and it took all his willpower to not say her real name; but she got there, too: he could feel her body spasming on him, and her arms almost faltered on keeping her into position.

They both lay on the bed, none of them daring to say a word, but Ryoga couldn't stop himself from trembling.

He was spent.

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

Yo, guys, I know this ones have been a while without news - I've been incredibly busy this month, but after april 28th I'm gonna be free again. But fear not: This story won't be forgotten - actually it's almost done on my PC, I'll just have to find the time to write it down.

I'd really like to thank the new followers and favorites on this one. Hope you like this chapter, I really do!

Stay tuned!

* * *

Human Being, 04/03/2014


	18. Landslide

* * *

**Landslide**

* * *

 

"Beneath the stains of time  
The feelings disappear  
You are someone else  
I am still right here

What have I become, my sweetest friend?  
Everyone I know goes away in the end

And you could have it all  
My empire of dirt  
I will let you down  
I will make you hurt"  
 _Hurt – Johnny Cash/Nine Inch Nails  
…_

Ryoga was on the photo studio, trying to get himself focused on a photo shoot while his thoughts kept flicking around Ranma Saotome.

He hated that. He hated to deal all over again with the sensation that his life revolved around Ranma and the chaos he was able to create. Granted, he couldn't say that his life was perfect, but then he recalled it really wasn't, just because he wasn't able to forget him, let go of him.

And when was he good on letting go of things he should let go, anyway?

His sparring sessions with Ranma were taking place at least thrice a week, always followed by his dates with 'Kaori', who now was mimicking his perfect girl more and more. And each and every one of those meetings took away a little piece of his cool and made his heart sink even deeper. But he coudn't forfeit the feeling of having Ranma on his arms, feeling the taste in his mouth, having his female form whispering sweet nothings on his ear while pretending to be someone else. Then, that way, Ranma managed to suck him down to the gravitating spiral around his ego, just as he must have done with Akane, Shampoo, Ukyou and anyone else who crossed his path.

He knew it, he was aware of it, but he couldn't get out. And he didn't know if it was because he wouldn't admit defeat to his 'nemesis' Ranma or if it was because… the stupid old Ryoga, who had a penchant to pathologically lie to himself and fall for any scrape of affection, could die to make the lie come true. Or, at least, close enough to it.

But now, at that time, his work could get some of his mind out of the mess he tucked himself in. It was a photo shooting with models, but he liked the concept of the shoots on the very beginning: an artistic editorial to a fancy fashion magazine; one of the things Yuri took so long to make reality – and a hell of a paycheck.

On a corner of the studio, however, Akane Tendo was watching the whole team working, her eyes glinting with a rather childish curiosity about the artistic side of his job. She always had a thing for many manifestations of visual art, and it didn't take long for her to ask him to join a photo shoot at the studio. He said yes, of course – and not because he wanted to tag her along to keep leverage over Ranma, even though he knew that would happen. Akane still had a lot of the sweet girl he once liked so much, and he still had that sensation of warm intimacy around her, as if he always had been closest to her – something very appealing to the lonely boy he once was and regretfully mistaken back then as love from his part; but he now knew better than that, much better indeed. Now she could very likely turn to his female best friend back in Japan, and they finally could take the best of each other's company without the misunderstandings from their feels.

However, Akane still was on the very center of some shit Ranma was trying to pull off; and there was no bigger source of misunderstanding than this. And Ryoga couldn't help to feel enraged to see Akane yet again dragged into Ranma's orbit of sheer confusion, just when she had just escaped from years of marriage with him. And his outrage came along with massive guilt – for taking part and playing along with this fucked-up game of Ranma, for not knowing if Akane still had feelings for her former husband, for not having a clue of how much she could get hurt with all of this.

Yes, because no matter how much she was willing to be his friend now, how would she react if she knew he was having sex with Ranma in his female form pretending to be someone else?

The sound of Akane's laughter at something Yuri said on the studio got him out of his thoughts, and sent him back to where they were.

"You see, when I looked at a magazine and saw all that models so flawless, their hair windblown with shine and volume… I'd never, ever figure out the entire process would be that _painful_ " Akane said to Yuri, who gave a good hearted laugh. "Look at these poor girls, they look like… wet chickens after all the wind and water thrown at them? He is torturing those poor girls!"

"That's the price of glamour, baby." Yuri answered, as the make-up artist ran to the models and retouched their faces after another session of wind and sprayed water on the set. "Especially when Ryoga's involved. Boy, doesn't he like those wild nature effects on his pictures? Rain, snow, wind, dried leafs, you name it: All of them have already been on a photoshoot of ours."

"But the final result's worth it." Akane smiled, pointing at one of the pictures Yuri selected on the laptop's monitor.

"Yes, but did he have to loathe digital editing that much?" Yuri groaned. "Because he wants things perrrrfect right out of the studio!"

"Oh well" Ryoga grinned, getting the attention of them both. "There's a whole lot of guys out there who are fond of lame-ass photoshopped pics, dude. Especially those you can see the photoshop coming a mile away. I just wouldn't guess you would be one of them…"

"Man, I also dislike this photoshop addiction people have nowadays, but there's nothing wrong on correcting some minor things on digital."

"There is not." He nodded to Yuri. "And be proud to be one of the very few I trust my material to make such corrections."

"I can't tell, since I never operated the program before…" Akane mused, smiling.

"Not even to correct your own pics on the computer?"

"Not even" Akane said to Yuri. "Not that I never felt the urge, god knows how much I am not that photogenic, but I couldn't do this even if my life depended on it!"

"I prefer un-retouched pics, to be quite honest." Ryoga said. "I think the imperfections give you the sense of reality a photo must have."

"Let me be damned if I don't know that, man" Yuri groaned. "And hey, look at your models there, they need your direction into giving you what you want." Then Yuri winked to Akane. "And aren't they eager to get you to do it, boy…"

Akane laughed as Ryoga rolled his eyes, while walking towards the team of models and make-up artists. He heard, however, his phone ringing close to Akane; but if he kept interrupting himself on this photoshoot, he'd finish it all a lot later than he expected.

"Hey, Ryoga-kun, can I pick it for you? It's ringing again!"

Ryoga waved her to do it, while Yuri cracked some joke about how comfortable Akane felt on doing that. She laughed at that, but picked it up nonetheless.

"Wow…" Akane said a few moments later, when no one answered at the other line. "Odd." She faced the number, unidentified on his phone agenda, and her brows furrowed slightly while Yuri cracked several another jokes about the call coming from someone who hung up on a jealousy pang.

"Who was it?" Ryoga came back and picked his phone from Akane's hand to peek on the number that called him.

"I don't know, it's not in your agenda. It hung up without saying a thing…" She said, and Ryoga did his best to keep himself from paling at the sight of 'Kaori's' number at his phone's display. "Do you know it?"

"Ah, yes" He said, his voice a bit blank. "It's a… friend of mine."

"I told you" Yuri laughed again, but Ryoga couldn't prevent his heart from pounding in his chest, the guilt attacking him again and warning him of how close Akane was of busting the entire game about him and Ranma.

OOO

A while later, he was at a café nearby talking to Akane about the photoshooting sessions… And then about many other things.

"So" She said, after sipping some of her iced latte. "I found it nice how you bring your former closeness to the wild and outdoors to your present work. And how you integrate it with a sense of solitude... I'd never imagine seeing this side of you, really."

"Me neither, to be honest, but gotta tell you I had a very enabling environment with John and Yuri. Much more enabling than the one I had at home as a college student…"

"They believed in you, ne?" She smiled.

"Mostly often, people didn't use to." He answered simply.

"It may sound hypocritical of me, but I get what you say." She said. "I mean, I surely get how belittled you were due to your directional issues and all that vendetta thing against Ranma, and I'm not intending to compare my issues to yours, but I can relate to being always 'not-enough' on things that I used to care about. Take the Art and the family's dojo, for example…"

"I see, and I really admire how you worked to get away from your family's impositions on your life, really." Ryoga sipped his expresso. "Speaking of which, how are they reacting to the single Akane now?"

"Not so single, to be honest." She smiled coyly. "Kasumi and Nabiki are really supportive of me, since them both saw the doom coming over my marriage much earlier than I called it off, and about my father… I stopped listening to him a good while ago."

"Finally." Ryoga said, but he was hell bent on avoiding any topic regarding Ranma and Akane's previous history together.

"Oh, geez" Akane dropped some of her iced latte on her blouse. "Ryo-kun, could you give me a minute? I got to go to the bathroom to clean this blouse, or it will get stained for good..."

"Sure, suit yourself" He smiled as she stood up to go to the ladies' bathroom have her shirt cleaned. But his smile died on his lips as soon as Akane vanished from his sight. A part of him kept hating himself, because there she was, one of the nicest people he ever met, and he was fooling her around just as much as Ranma on that sick travesty. He couldn't help to loathe himself on remembering his former 'righteous' claim on Akane, how he used to feel entitled to her love instead of Ranma because he acted much more honorable around her than he did. Even if that was true, where the hell was all the righteousness now?

By the way, wasn't Akane taking a bit too long to come back?

He went to the bathroom, and at the hall he saw Akane coming out of the ladies' room along with a rather annoyed-looking Ranma Saotome. And his blood boiled in his veins on imagining that Ranma called him to set a date as 'Kaori', saw Akane answering his phone and came out to stalk his former wife to the bathroom of that café.

"Ranma?" He said, using all of his willpower to steady himself and not punch him on the face. "What are you doing at the ladies room with Akane?"

"Why hello, Mr. P…" Ranma said, giving him a slight sneer that sent lava through his veins. "Chill out, I'm not stalking Akane down to the bathroom or something. Had an accident with cold water while I ran out of Jusenkyo soap. So, I got inside the café to look for some hot water and Akane bumped into me, that's all."

"Ran out of Jusenkyo soap?" The mention of Ranma 'running out of Jusenkyo soap' would sound fucking hilarious if it didn't remind him about why Ranma wasn't using the thing at first place. But he managed to keep himself from bursting into hysterical laughter in Ranma's face. "How did you manage to do that?"

"By forgetting to order more, of course"

"Why, all you had to do was ask me for some. I keep them in stock." He shot a glare to Ranma, and secretly wished Ranma could sense some of the irony he was putting on his words.

"Sure you do, Ryoga." Ranma raised an eyebrow, crooking a smile and resuming at his infuriating cocky motherfucker self. "That explains why we haven't seen P-chan in such a long time, doesn't it?"

"Ranma!" Akane was surely sensing the tension, taking yet again the bait Ranma threw at her. "You're being rude."

"Ain't I always?" He grinned, and Ryoga swallowed back the urge of breaking all the teeth of his mouth. "Anyway, I wouldn't annoy you with my problems, Ryoga. Especially such a minor problem likes this when you clearly have other things to do, like finally having a successful date with your former crush. Right, Akane?"

This time, Ryoga's body tingled with anger and he clenched his fingers into fists, almost burying his nails on his palms.

"Ranma, what the heck?" Akane was bewildered. "Ryoga is my friend, what are you talking about?"

Ryoga could barely hear his name out of Akane's mouth, because he was very busy mentally chanting himself to stay calm. ' _Not here, not now, not yet_ ', he kept repeating himself until his hands relaxed and the hot anger turned into cold determination.  _"Soon_ " He thought to himself, " _Soon_."

"Uh-uh, nothing. Nothing at all. Anyway, I took enough of your time already." Ranma must be fucking ecstatic at his insides, because he got what he wanted – as fucking  _always_. "See ya around. And Ryoga… Don't leave me waiting for our sparring session, eh?"

"Sure" Ryoga rose his eyes, defiantly facing him as if he was answering a challenge. Which he was, sort of. "After all, lately I seem to have lost my penchant on keeping you waiting. I'll be there."

Ranma crooked another sly smile and left, maybe secretly celebrating his victory. But he might have won the battle, yes, but not the war. Oh no, fucking no.

"Ryoga…" Akane's voice denounced her uneasiness over her ex-husband behavior. "I am so sorry for that. I don't know that the hell is going on with Ranma…" She halted, probably thinking she actually never did.

But Ryoga did, Ryoga now knew exactly what Ranma was up to, differently from the past, when everybody – Ranma, Ukyou, Shampoo, Mousse, even Akane – deemed him as a dim lost poor little fool he surely wasn't anymore.

And Ranma wouldn't play him like that, he didn't go through everything he had gone to be fooled, belittled and taken as a fool for the likes of Ranma Saotome. No matter how he felt when he had him as a girl in his arms, no matter how addictive his taste was on his mouth, no matter how a part of him – foolish, foolish, foolish – wanted even a tiniest part of 'Kaori' to be true in Ranma.

"It's okay, Akane" He squeezed her hand, keeping the burning hatred from reaching his face, trying to sound reassuring for his friend – and he knew, he knew very well Akane didn't deserve all that crap.

Later at his home he saw himself forcing the air in and out slowly, trying to keep steady and calm while the irrational anger came back in hot waves through his body. "Soon" he shushed himself, "soon", but he knew it had to end. It wasn't just a challenge; it wasn't just about him and Ranma. There was Akane, she didn't deserve that. Ranma could be a fucking inconsiderate prick, but he was not.

He picked up his cellphone and texted 'Kaori' to come by his place.

_"I won't warn you when your time's up, Saotome"_

OOO

He prepared himself for what he saw as his last match with someone he once considered his arch-rival. He carefully bathed himself, chose his clothes, made himself look as attractive he learned he could be, even in a rather casual outfit. He wasn't that old Ryoga who only wore what he could find on his backpack, who prized handy and deadly piece of cloths over his looks, and thus was deemed by everyone to be the scruffy-looking eternally lost twit. No, now he learned he was good looking, he learned he was attractive, he learned he was worthy of the best attentions people could address him, and he would not be satisfied over scrapes and leftover from anyone. Not again, never again, e especially he would not let Ranma play him any longer to get to Akane.

He wasn't a pawn, and never, ever wound be again; that's what he chanted on his mind the entire time he got prepared to wait for Kaori.

But not even this mental training got him prepared for the vision of Ranma, looking stunning as always on his Kaori drag, but with something clearly off. A hint of nervousness, a bit of… sorrow?

He felt his armor crack, and the sorrow on that azure eyes – the very same on both of his forms, male and female – crawled into him. 'She' came in, and he embraced her from behind, nuzzling his nose at her neck and losing himself on that scent, then barely registering when he turned her to face him and touch her face, reach her lips on a kiss. The last one.

He shattered from inside out; his scent and his taste making that foolish, foolish part of himself – the one who got trapped inside that cave, on Ranma's scent – howl and scream and make his chest hurt as he realized he was a fool if he thought he could live without that…

But that couldn't  _be_.

"Come with me" He whispered, after they broke the kiss, suppressing the urge to keep his obsession in his arms for as long as he could.

"Where to?" 'Her' voice was also a faint whisper, promising the very same perdition as always, but he couldn't do it anymore.

"Bathroom." He could literally feel his heart screaming at him ' _No, not now, just once more, just once more_ ', but he forced himself to remember Akane, and the male form of Ranma Saotome teasing him in Ukyou's party, and on that café early on that same day. "Doing it on the hot tub would be a good change, don't you think?"

And to think he dreamed about this, he rehearsed how he'd bring Saotome to the utter humiliation of being uncovered on his disguise after all they had done… He thought he'd feel something bittersweet due to that satisfaction, but no. There was nothing sweet on this.

"Ah… I don't dig it too much."

"So… Why is it? Don't you like water?"

"Not much-"

"I know it's a bit cold for that, but the heater here is very good."

"I…" He saw  _hurt_ on that pair of azure eyes. Not surprise, not anger, not shame for being caught. Hurt. "I'd better go."

"So soon?" His armor of cool was melting, and the flow of mixed emotions – anger, pain, resentment, desire, love, fear – was about to eat him whole. But he steadied himself the better he could, and he shot the final blow. "I thought you were up to play tonight."

"That's the point, I ain't playing." 'Her' voice cracked, her eyes watered, and that hint of truth he always wanted to see on Ranma was  _there_ , just in front of his eyes.

_"It's a_ lie _"_ A part of him, who was angry and hurt, chanted in his mind. " _And he is expecting you to fall for it again, just like you always did…_ " He swallowed hard, pushing down the need of holding 'her' and whisper that it was okay, they'd go to the room instead, there was no problem.

"Ohhhh, you ain't playing." He felt his body tingling, the pain 'her' eyes were giving him pushing the almost primal need to pull 'Kaori' into a soothing embrace almost pouring out of control, but he would not give in to his weakness, he would  _not_  lose again to Ranma Saotome. He would not. He needed it to end, one way or another. "Then, if you ain't playing, go and get yourself to the hot tub. So we kill the fucking game right here and right now."

"No. I can't, I-"

_"Finish him"_

"You can't." He summoned his anger, his fury and his hurt, all at once to help him through. Because this wasn't like Coach Hal's matches, where he needed to keep his cool; here he'd need the wrath to keep him from yielding to his temptation, not giving in. And all of it came, all at once, and once again he let himself be flooded by the outrageous feeling pouring out of him. "I see. You have not a single whisker of dignity on you, that's what I see."

"It's not wha-"

"Then tell me what it is!" He roared, punching a crack at the wall on his side. "Tell me why the fuck you are doing this to me! Why the fuck did you take it that far, why you had to go and try to seduce me to get to Akane yet again!"

"This has nothing to do with Akane!"

_"Liar"_ His mind chanted yet again.

"Oh, really? Really? Then what? What is going on inside this sick head of yours? A challenge? A wager? What?"

"Could you please hear me out?" 'She' screamed. "I TOLD you already it's got nothin' to do with Akane! It's got to do with you!"

"To ME?"  _Liar, liar, liar_. "You surely got a lot of nerve, don't you?"

"Ryoga, I-"

"Am lying through my teeth, because I was BUSTED in my own game!'" He cut 'her' short, feeling his jaw trembling with rage. He now suppressed the urge of calming down, the one he taught himself since he found out, still when living with Akari, that this could help him not getting lost, and after reinforced by Coach Hal to make him a better fighter. "Ha-ha, I knew you were a self-centered egoistical motherfucker, but you never, ever cease to surprise me of how low you can sink to save your fucking face."

"I wasn't intending all of this to get this serious, or this big, but then you took me for a random chick at that bar and-"

"I took you for what? Excuse me? This is rich, Ranma" He spat his real name for 'her' for the very first time since all that shit began, and his wrath started anew, feeding on itself. "I KNEW it was you all along! I KNEW it was you at the very moment Yuri introduced me to 'Kaori'!"

"You… knew?" Hurt, hurt in Ranma's eyes, gleaming with what seemed like tears, and more hurt.

A lie, a lie, a lie. Ranma was sensing his weakness yet again, using it against him yet again… He went on.

"Why, of course. Who do you take me for, the stupid young gullible lost Ryoga you liked to fool pretending to be some lost fiancée, or some schoolgirl, or some random chick interested on poor little me?"

"Then WHY did you go along with this?" Ranma's voice sounded like a wounded animal and a part of him wanted so hard to go and cuddle him, take it all back, tell him he was sorry, but no. No. "I NEVER wanted to do it like this! Do you know how many times I wanted you to know who I really was? Do you think I enjoyed all this shit?"

"Honestly?" He was pure anger now, an anger he knew all too well – it drove him all the way to China after the very same person in front of him now, an anger who demanded  _revenge_. And he should have it. This time, he  _would_  have it. "I think you cackled yourself to death on my expense, Ranma. Just as I cackled myself on thinking about how you, the Man Among Men, enjoyed yourself while I fucked you like the cunt you really are-"

A loud slap connected to his cheek.

"You cackled yourself?" Ranma spat, while he was clutching the side of his face. "Well, I didn't, Ryoga. Not even once." Her voice cracked, and the hurt on her voice sounded so fucking _sincere_  he almost believed that.. "I didn't, because you have no fucking idea of how long I wanted to do all I did, on how bad I wanted you to understand a tiny bit of what I felt, how hard and how long I fought it, and yet I couldn't get away from it… I won't lie when opportunity presented itself I-"

"STOP LYING TO ME!" It was his time to sound like a wounded animal, but wounded as he was, he kept doing what he did best on such circumstances – he lashed out. "Shut the fuck up, I don't believe a SINGLE WORD you say, you liar!"

"I AIN'T LYING! I am not claiming innocence, granted, but why the fuck do you have to think I did this to make fun of you?"

"Oh, wow" He clasped his hands, laughing maniacally while the rage and the hurt were melting his sanity within the perceived hurt on Ranma's voice. "That's a good one, because surely you never did it, right? How rude of me to imagine that!"

"I didn't do it to fool you, or to make fun of you…" The faint whisper of Ranma's voice came yet again drenched in sorrow, her eyes shedding tears and gleaming more beautiful than ever. And that was cracking him from inside out. "I did this before, I know. And I am so, so sorry. But not this time. Not this time…"

"Then why?" He clenched his fists, trembling out of his conscious control while facing Ranma with his own eyes full of tears he would not let fall. "Why?"

"I…" 'She' choked on his words, his furious pants filling the room, but Ranma never, ever seemed so open to him, so wounded, so guilty. Almost as if he actually had a conscience of his own. Then he saw it: Beneath the apparent hurt, the presumed shame 'her' eyes were giving in, a glint of devotion, an impression of adoration he longed so much to see that his stupider side often thought he did, when he was falling on his old pattern of fooling himself.

Then Ranma's words came, worse than any illusion, than any lie he told to himself.

"I fell for you…"

This time, nothing could ease his pain. Not the wrath, not the anger, not the faint illusion of his long awaited victory over Ranma Saotome. And his soul shattered on that pain, in many million pieces more he ever imagined his heart could be broken. Because Ranma yet again sensed his weakness, the soft spot his heart had for him since that day on that cave, and still had the gall to use it against him.

"You…" He simply couldn't hold back the tears veiling his eyes. "…You motherfucking liar."

"I'm not lying…" 'She' whispered. "Ryoga, please. I know it's totally nuts and I'd not believe it if I heard this myself, but I am not lying to you. Not this time, I swear!"

"You swear?" He whispered back, his voice caught on his throat. "You swear? How dare you? How dare you 'swear' you're doing all this shit because you had feelings for me? How DARE you, when you couldn't even bother to conceal from me how fucking jealous you got of Akane?"

"I wasn't jealous of Akane, I was jealous of you! Can't you see? Can't you fucking see?"

"STOP THAT! What kind of fucking idiot do you take me for?" He was hurting, he was hurting so bad, and he kept lashing out, but the pain simply wouldn't ease, and it was so strong he was almost crouching on the floor. "Stop saying this shit about how you did this because of me! You didn't! Actually, you never did anything for anyone but yourself, Ranma! Never! And I don't wanna hear any of the load of crap you have to say about why you got to pretend to be a girl to get to whatever." He stepped back, broken in so many pieces he was positive he could never, ever fix himself back; and it hurt, oh god it hurt. "So take it, whatever you want. Akane, victory, your place as the best of Nerima, whatever, I don't care. It's yours. I'm off. I can't do this anymore…" He choked, fighting not to cry the hardest he'd ever tried, and failing miserably. "I can't, Ranma. This isn't a game to me…"

The sobs were already ripping their way from his chest to his throat, and he ran off his apartment before he'd weep like a wounded child in front of his worst enemy. If he did, it would be the ultimate taint to his victory over Ranma Saotome.

He won.

Despite his final breakdown, he won.

Where was the joy of it? The joy on winning that was Ranma's addiction, where was it?

And when he found himself alone, the pain curled him into the floor to let a tear-drenched scream rip off his throat, among the sobs he was fighting so hard to suppress.

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

Okay, here I am back on track - and with the most difficult chapter I wrote in here to this date.

Anyway, not much to say on this one, I hope you like it!

Stay tuned!

* * *

Human Being, 05/19/2014

 


	19. Devoltion

 

 

 

* * *

**Devoltion**

* * *

 

"I can't tell you what it really is  
I can only tell you what it feels like  
And right now it's a steel knife in my windpipe  
I can't breathe but I still fight while I can fight  
As long as the wrong feels right it's like I'm in flight  
I offer love drunk from my hate  
It's like I'm huffing paint and I love it the more I suffer  
I suffocate"  
 _Love the way you lie – Eminen/Rihanna  
_ …

Strobe lights were gleaming through the smoke of dry ice and countless cigarettes lit inside a small club. Loud techno music and people dancing, vibrating along the bass drums, on a hypnotic rhythm he wasn't dancing along. He never would, he'd never been much of a dancer, anyway.

He wondered, where the fuck was he now?

He was  _lost_.

It was some random club in the middle of god-knows-where, and he most certainly didn't care. He leaned on the bar and asked for a drink, and then another, and then another, and soon enough he was wasted out of his mind.

Alone, sad, lost, all of it so familiar he felt like cackling himself on his own stupidity while thinking he really could escape from who he really was.

Another shot, and he saw two guys making out on the wall beside a pitch-black hall. He kinda sensed it was a gay-friendly club, but once inside he knew it was also one of those clubs with a dark room. Despite his former adventures with Yuri on fashion parties, he never got inside one of those before. Even to someone who wasn't exactly a newbie to gay clubs, dark rooms were markedly 'off limits' to him, since he associated them with a rather dangerous sexual behavior: Sex in a completely dark place with a total stranger he couldn't even look in the face? Big no-no. Sure, he did other girls and other guys and even got into some threesomes with Yuri when he was smashed out of his skull, but a dark room in a cheap gay club? Never. No matter how stupid he got while drunk, John still had his share of reason about him and it meant he still had some standards, right?

Stupid, stupid Ryoga.

'Standards' were for those who knew how to recognize a situational hazard when a sex-changing douchebag pulled out a fucking drag in order to fool him into some wicked plan to get his ex-wife back inside his spiral of madness. 'Standards' were for those who were able to stay away from losing their mind to some unresolved crush on said sex-changing motherfucker, who by the was just interested on lying his ass off while getting to what he wanted. 'Standards' were for those who didn't crave for the taste and the touch of an aquatranssexual sociopathic pathological liar yet while knowing the real truth. It surely would sound funny as shit he could be worried about his sexual safety when not long ago he jumped head-first at the very first sign of one of Ranma Saotome's pranks at him. The worst one to date, by the way.

Thus, 'standards' were not for him.

"The world is a dark and lonely place" he muttered to himself, snorting a humorless laugh on how he spent years trying to believe the opposite. Yet another shot, and he headed to the front door of the dark room, leaving his wallet on the keeper in exchange for a plastic band on his wrist. Then he stumbled inside the pitch black hall, the humid smell of sweat, spit, cum and the sound of pants, moans and suckling giving him a picture of what his eyes couldn't see. All about sex, wild sex, but as he tried to evocate the arousal on him the moments he shared with Ranma on his girl-drag smashed him in the face: Pain was all he got. Even the good old trick he always pulled off to get aroused – projecting some of the arousal he once felt for Ranma on other people – was irrevocably tainted now that he knew how the real thing felt like.

He suppressed the urge of wincing away while a pair of hands groped him and pushed him onto some sticky wall. Someone pinned him, burying the face on his neck and licking it up to his earlobe, and a hand tried to get inside his pants to grab him down there. The man who was groping him was reeking of old sweat and alcohol, but he knew he mustn't be much better than that. The man squeezed his cock lightly and Ryoga winced on the contact, not the slightest sign of a boner on him to reward his mistery groper. The man then kissed him, tucking his tongue on his mouth as he suppressed a retching sensation and tried to kiss him back. Even the rancid taste of alcohol – and rubber – on his partner's mouth couldn't take away the lingering memory of Ranma's taste, so he averted from the kiss. Then the man forced him to face the wall while he was undoing his zipper and pushing down his pants, mumbling something about how fine his ass was at his touch and for him not to worry, he was going to wear a condom.

It wasn't like he'd never bottom before, but he certainly could count on the fingers of one sole hand the times he did it, let alone enjoyed doing so. Not that he was in love with his partner back then, but he certainly trusted him – and thought about Ranma on him on each of his thrusts. He, who once swore never lie to himself again, indulged on a calculated illusion about his obsession – yet again. Not the case here, certainly, but he was way past caring now. He knew very well he wouldn't enjoy having some anonymous dick on his ass, he wouldn't at all; but the discomfort, the uneasiness, all the invading sensation of oddity and wrongness would serve him just right. The first thrust came, and he stifled a wince as he felt the prick didn't even care to prepare and lubricate him, but then the guy pressed his chest on the wall while bending up his hips and spreading his legs open with his knees – and thank god the guy was wearing a condom, lest the lubrication would be even worse than it already was. Another thrust, and another, and another, and soon the man was carelessly bruising his neck, his shoulders and his back with sucks and bites while pounding him for dear life; and he wasn't able to feel a thing but pain and burning on his insides. On other times he'd snap out of it and push the fucker away to beat him senseless, but not today, not that time. That time he needed the pain to erase some of the bliss he felt while having Ranma, he needed the pain to carry away the addictive pleasure he felt while inside his girl form and then stop fantasizing on have Ranma doing sweet lovemaking with him, letting Ranma in his real male form do to him what this guy was doing now. He could tell he'd have a hard time sitting down and walking after the man finished with him, but he didn't care – There was no way the guy could hurt him more than he already was.

The memories were making his eyes sting again, and he dimly thought that after the guy finished with him he'd maybe get another drink. Or suck some other cock inside the dark room, whatever.

OOO

The day was about to dawn and he was out of the club, walking aimlessly on the streets through careful and slow steps. Walking hurt, sitting down was out of question and the taste of rubber and early hangover on his mouth was markedly annoying him, but he kept going.

Where was he now?

He had absolutely no idea.

How long was he lost, anyway?

His entire life.

He walked some more, stopping from time to time to rest from the burning on his insides, and then start walking again until the sunrise. And curiously, years of conditioning on not getting lost were paying him off in a strange way, since he couldn't find a way to wander into the woods where he could pull off a good Shi Shi Hokodan on himself – the idea got into his mind rather insistently, though, but he'd not do it inside the urban zone. Not that he was caring about his physical integrity, but he did care for other people's safety and for property damage.

Anyway, did he still remember how to do it? He guessed so.

He kept walking.

A while later, his insides flared in pain, and he stopped for a while to get some air and rest a little. He knew he'd been walking for hours since he left the club and his body screamed at him to get a fucking cab and go home to a hot shower and his bed, but he couldn't imagine coming home to the memories of his encounters with Ranma – he'd probably set the fucking place on fire, maybe while still inside.

In the middle of the pain, he realized he was about to sober up. " _Gotta fix that_ ", he thought, and resumed his walking to search around for some place to get a drink. A hard task, since he was now on a residential area of the city – and while looking around to find a suitable place he finally realized where he really was.

Tendo Dojo.

"Fuck."

He was about to turn around and get the hell out of there, but Akane's voice rang on his ears, calling for him. From all people in the face of the earth, the least he'd like to see, with the exception of Ranma himself, was Akane. Because the sight of her sent guilt all over him, and he knew – oh, he knew even though he didn't deserve shit from her, she would still try and help him out.

"Ryoga, you dummy, where have you been? Ryoga!" Akane cried, running towards him. He thought about running away, but of course he wasn't fit for a run as sore as he was. She gripped his arm and he tried to jerk it out, but the movement sent a sharp burning ache on his lower back and he winced in pain. Which, of course, wouldn't go unnoticed by a martial arts trained person like Akane.

"Are you  _hurt_?" She asked in an alarmed tone, but he said nothing. "Ryoga, you've been missing for three days! We were sick worried about you!"

"Which means I've spoiled you into thinking I couldn't get that lost anymore." He answered, unable to keep his voice from slurring a bit. "C'mon, I'm okay, Akane. You know three days lost is  _nothing_  for Ryoga Hibiki. "

"You're so wrong I'm not even having this argument with you." She scolded. "You're very much obviously the furthest I've ever seen you from 'okay'. Now, be a dear and come with me."

"Akane, you don't need to-"

"Ryoga, please don't make me drag you home." She said while guiding him in, the soreness preventing him to resist her drive. "You need a good bath and a good wash on these clothes; certainly we can tell you've been wandering around for three days."

Once inside, she guided him to the bathroom and then started to tug on his shirt to get it off. Of course being naked in front of Akane's eyes were in the rock bottom of his wishlist by now, but she baffled his protests arguing that, happily for her, naked men were no big deal to her and her steady-to-be most certainly wouldn't mind her helping a friend in need. However, as she realized the tug-o-war on getting him undressed was going nowhere, she gave him a little privacy while he took off his clothes and got inside the hot tub.

Once there, the hot water rather soothed the soreness. He closed his eyes and let out a hiss, but some of the pain flared again when the screeching sound of Akane opening the door startled him. "Look what I found on the laundry bottom drawers." She handed him a half-used bar of jusenkyo soap. "I'll get your clothes there to a good wash. I also brought you a yukata while you wait your clothes to dry up…"

He winced, knowing that even the water by his chest wasn't covering the bruises and the hickeys on his neck, shoulders and back. Akane saw them, the bewildered look on her face was a good clue on that, but whatever remarks she had about them were kept to herself.

Why, from all people, it had to be Akane to find him?

Sobriety brought back the guilt at the very sight of her face.

"I prepared the guest's room for you" She replied on a quiet tone. "As soon as you finish your bath, you go upstairs and get some sleep. There are some of Kasumi's leftovers on the fridge; I'll heat them for you."

"You shouldn't bother that much on helping me." He said rather sheepishly, her gaze still on the bruises he had on his neck and upper back. "As much as I appreciate your help, I can take care of myself."

"Don't scorn help when you need it the most, Ryo-kun. I know you can take care of yourself, but sometimes we can do it better when people help us out."

_"Not this time_ " He thought to himself, and remained silent.

"You  _will_  stay here until you get better." Her commanding yet reassuring tone was evident as she closed the door behind her, leaving him alone.

OOO

Ryoga woke up on the guest's room of the Tendo house, his head and his lower back aching dully as he moved. He turned on his stomach, gazing at the ceiling of the room that harbored Ranma and his father for a long time some years ago, and he couldn't help to realize the room looked almost exactly the same. An odd sensation which, combined to the faint dizziness from his hangover, brought him the impression that at any moment a giant panda would enter the room holding a sign plate, and a sixteen year old Ranma would then appear right next while chasing Happosai or escaping some half-ass dirty trick from Shampoo to win his love. Or to scare P-chan away from there, where he was stuffed after he managed to get him out of Akane's room.

And all of this would just be a dream, a bad dream of how time could pass and things could almost go blissfully right, to then turn awfully wrong.

He ran his fingers through his bangs and shifted to sit on the futon carefully, avoiding to put too much of his weight where he felt hurting most. He was tired, sleepy, but he knew he wasn't going to get more sleep in that darned room. He looked at his yukata, covering him scarcely beneath the blanket, and then undid the sash to wrap it better around his body. It was time to stand up, fetch his things and go somewhere else. Before he could stand up, however, a soft knock on the door halted his resolve.

"Ryoga? Are you up?" Akane's voice echoed from behind the door.

"Yes, come in"

She entered the room and sat by the side of his futon.

"I brought you a pair of trousers and a clean shirt I asked your friend to bring from your place." She said. "So, did you have a good rest?"

"Yes, I am actually feeling much better now."

"That's good" She said. "Now, Ryo-kun, care to explain me what the hell is this?"

'This what?"

"You went missing for three days!"

"What is the big deal?" He answered blankly; trying to raise his defenses, but he also knew it wasn't his best moment to do so. Miserable, guilty, all of his feelings too close to the surface to be suppressed. "I surely used to spend more time away and no one got so worked up about it."

"That was then. But now? That's absolutely not like you."

"Akane…" He sighed. "You surely don't know me as well as you think you do."

"What would you think if I disappeared for three days to show up half-drunk, sore and and covered in hickeys?"

"That you had a hell of a party?"

"Ryo-kun, quit the beating around the bush, okay? There's something very wrong with you now. Mr. Party-Hard Gone Missing never was your thing, nor will it ever be."

"Tsc…" Ryoga clicked his tongue. "What, have you been talking to John already?"

"Your friend John Lemos? Actually yes, he and Yuri were sick worried about you. Last word I heard about them – and it was yesterday – John was trying to calm down your father, who seemed hell bent on tracking you down to the ends of the Earth to then kill you himself" She let out a humorless laugh. "And Yuri was about to put the Police on you tail."

"Good luck to him on getting the Tokyo Police to search for a Hibiki." Ryoga snorted, and lowered his head. "I'm serious, Akane. I'm  _fine_."

He felt her soft brown eyes on him – not as light as his own, but a tone of chocolate who reminded him of sweetness, of warmth. And that warmth used to make him feel so at ease, so comfortable, that even seemed odd how it now made him feel so bad about himself. Then she touched his bangs to get them out of his face, smiling almost like his mother would when he was a small child bummed at something or someone.

"Ryo-kun, why are you so stubborn?" She said softly. "I know, there was a time you used to be alone and feel safe, but you're not alone anymore. Can't you see?"

He said nothing, his voice caught on his throat. The idea of letting it out was tempting, yes, but why? Why Akane, of all people? The one person who would hate him so much when she learned the truth?

"Let's play a game, shall we? I tell you something really personal, you tell me something really personal." She said. "I know how you feel, I used to be like that – thinking I could handle myself on my own. I surely tried, but it didn't work well. Actually, it took me a failed marriage to realize there were things I couldn't fix by myself, and there were things I couldn't fix at all. And I tried, Ryoga, I tried."

He felt tears on his eyes, as she kept talking.

"And while I was alone, trying to fix the unfixable, I missed having you around, see? Either as the friend you've always been to me, the decent guy who was so careful about my feelings and that would always hurry to defend me, or as the P-chan I could cuddle when things got really bad, when Ranma…"

She paused, her voice caught on her throat, and she pressed her lips as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Do… Do you love Ranma?" Ryoga asked, his voice strained with sorrow and guilt.

"Oh, dear" She breathed. "You, of all people, asking me this..."

"Why?" He whispered back after a moment of silence.

"Because…" She paused again, taking a deep breath. "You see, there is a part of me that will always see Ranma in his shining glory rescuing me from death in Jusendo, giving his cure up for the sake of my life. The boy who held me in his arms and told me that he loved me. Ah, I'd have married him in a snap, Ryoga, you know that. And when the marriage was about to happen and I asked him if he was doing this for the right reasons… Back then I thought it was the closest I've ever seen him saying 'I love you' to my face, without thinking I was dead or passed out. So, this sixteen-year-old girl is a part of me still, and she sees Ranma like that, that's why she said yes to become Akane Saotome. This girl… This girl also loves her P-chan and will always be best friends with you, Ryoga."

He couldn't hold his tears anymore, and she went on.

"But…" She swallowed hard, and her face contorted into a soft scowl. "But the woman I am now isn't able to forgive Ranma for what he did to me. For how he used the way I felt about him to hide away from his own demons – or whatever he perceived as demons, anyway. And now… Now I am seeing someone who doesn't see me as a forced fiancée, or a prize to be won, a person that sees me as I really am, and this is so nice… He likes me, and I feel very good by his side, and maybe I am finally finding out what it feels like to love and be loved back. So yes, there's no easy answer to the question you made me, Ryo-kun, but long story short I'd say I loved him once. But not anymore."

Both of them stayed in silence, and then Akane raised her hand again to tuck a lock of his hair under his ear.

"But the woman I am now also loves her dear friend and her P-chan." He jerked from her contact, soft sobs caught on his throat. "Your turn, Ryoga."

"You…" He breathed, his voice strained with sorrow. "You would hate me if you knew the truth."

"I would not."

"Yes, you would." He whispered. "Akane, please… Leave it at that…"

"I won't hate you, Ryoga. How could I?"

"You could. You would. You will."

"Ryo-"

"It's nothing about 'having a crush on you all over again', Akane, this is not it. I-"

"I  _know_." She strained her voice. "I already figured out you'd hardly have a crush on me at this point of your life, I'm not that dense." She eyed the bruises on his back, which clearly indicated what he'd been doing, and  _how_. "And I also have a hunch on what's going on, Ryoga. A pretty accurate one, actually, but I'd rather have you trusting me enough to help you out of this."

"How could you help me?" He whispered, eyes down while he fought back tears. "How could you possibly  _understand_?"

"I could. Actually, it's pretty much obvious to me, y'know? I just didn't imagine he'd go so low…"

"What?.." Ryoga halted.

"Ryoga… Ranma  _did_  seduce you disguised as a girl, right?" Akane sighed. "I got it when I saw one of his spare numbers on your cell phone and you said it was a friend, and then Ranma popped up in the same café we were. And, after you disappeared, I asked Yuri if you were seeing someone – y'know, whoever you were dating could know where you were. Yuri said he didn't know if you did it recently, but he did mention something about a girl on a club. A red-haired martial artist who named herself 'Kaori', or something like that-."

"He  _tried_ …"

"What?"

"Do you really think I wouldn't  _know_?" Ryoga breathed, his voice drenched in shame while tears rolled down his eyes. "I knew it all along. I knew the very moment I laid my eyes on him in a drag on that darned club. Sure, I got mad at him, so mad, but…"

"Then… Then  _why_  did you let him do it?" Akane was bewildered. "Why did you do it to yourself?"

"Because I…" He choked, because he never, ever said it to anyone. Not even to himself, not aloud. "I was… am… I don't know what this is... But I feel it for so long, Akane,  _so long_ … And the bastard sensed it somehow…" Ryoga whispered, so low that Akane had to focuse herself on hearing him. "… And he  _used_  me. He used it to get to me, to use me to make you jealous… I knew it, at first I wanted to go along to bust him and make him lose on his own game, but then I realized it was far too late. I mean,  _love_  is supposed to be a good thing, right? Not this, not  _this_ … "

_"I don't know what to do."_

She didn't scold him, or mallet him, or anything like that. She hugged him tight, protecting him as if he was a little child. And he broke down. He sobbed apologies while crying in his earnest; she shushed him.

"You've got it backwards, dear…" She whispered. "He's not doing this to get to me. But it doesn't make his mistake less huge, or less painful. He's like that, takes what he wants, no matter what the consequences are. And as for us, who got caught in the middle…" She let out a shaky breath. "We've been in a fine piece of a mess, eh, Ryo-kun?"

"Yes." He snorted, on what could have been a laugh. "It's all Ranma's fault".

OOO

The sun was already down and he couldn't tell how long he stayed lying at the futon on the Tendo's guest room, but as he woke up he could tell the scent of cooked food from the Tendo's kitchen. Too bad he wasn't hungry at all, a constant on those last days.

Akane insisted on him to stay at the Tendo's for at least a week more, since she sensed he wasn't quite in the mood to go home and resume his normal life. And she was right – he couldn't face his own room without reminding himself of Ranma, so he was much more likely to get lost again. And, after the conversation they had when Akane found him, he couldn't deny he felt somewhat relieved on realizing she would support him on getting away from all that shit; and he knew how heavy all those years of silence about this issue were on him. Not that he felt comfortable talking to Akane about his ever present obsession with her ex-husband, but at least she knew the truth, and he couldn't express on words how grateful he felt for having her as such an understanding friend.

And if all that crap had a good side, it was the fact that he was now positive that in spite of all the shit Ranma could pull out (and he would, despite Akane's words validating what 'she' formerly said on his apartment he kept not believing that) he knew that she wouldn't get back inside Ranma's mayhem, because she was able to get over him. Something he'd envy her for life; because he, that never had nothing from Ranma but lies and self-fabricated illusions, spent ten years trying to do just that – and failed.

However, he knew he was now imposing himself – as much as Akane wanted to be a good friend and help him, he was still a single guy at the house of a single girl, which could easily be misinterpreted by many people.

Especially considering he used to be one of her suitors before her marriage to Ranma.

Not that he thought Akane would give a damn on minor gossip from the neighborhood; but the guy she was currently with taking this bad could be a very real possibility, and he knew he had a significant history with girls to contradict an eventual role as 'gay best friend'. Also, he wasn't exactly out of the closet, was he?

Anyway, he had it rather clear in his head he needed to go home, even if to pack his shit and move to another district of Tokyo and stay the hell away from Nerima.

At some point he realized he was getting close to the dojo, the same one he used to train and spar with Ranma back at his teens. The sour sensation of  _deja-vu_  only worsened as he heard Akane's voice scolding someone, and he sneakily approached to see who was pestering his friend – and froze at the sight.

There was Ranma and Akane arguing, possibly because of him.

Yes, he could picture Akane trying to confront Ranma for what he did – and there was the fucker telling her he'd guessed he, Ryoga, already been here to cry on her shoulder. He bit his lip and turned to get away and the hell out of that house; he'd call Akane later and thank her yet again for her hospitality and support, but he would not stay there and face Ranma. If he did that, he might  _kill_  him.

However, he heard his name clearly on Akane's voice, and he crouched behind a wooden wall to hear what she said. And what she said froze him at the spot.

_"You lied to Ryoga, like you always do, and this is the guy you claimed to_ love _when we broke up"_

He knew he should leave, hear no more and scram. But he didn't .

OOO

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

# The word on the title means, according to the Urban Dictionary, "a common misspelling a devotion but can also mean having a hate for devotion."

To those who favorited/followed/just read, thank you as well, and I'd like to hear from you guys too!

See you, and- Stay tuned!

* * *

Human Being, 06/03/2014

 


	20. Awestruck

* * *

**Awestruck**

* * *

 

"I'm miles from where you are,  
I lay down on the cold ground  
I pray that something picks me up  
And sets me down in your warm arms"  
 _Set the fire to the third bar – Snow Patrol_

…

It has been a month or so since he got out of the Tendo Dojo and engaged into a business trip for a calendar photoshoot scheduled by Yuri and John. Truth to be told, he was somessed up he wasn't able even to pack up his things – he had someone else to do it for him, since he couldn't bring himself to step into his own place. At that time, he truly thought this trip for a series of external photo sessions over South Asia was a gift from Heaven; but now he could hardly tell the same.

His old trick of getting away to leave his problems and disillusions behind wasn't working as well. Ranma, Kaori and all the things related – and a lot of things they were – could be miles away from where he was now, but they still remained on his head twenty four hours a day.

And he had a lot to think about that.

He couldn't think about his final confrontation with Ranma without feeling tears on his eyes. He still hated him with all his might, but he couldn't let go of the memory of those damned eyes looking at him, nor could he escape the promises beneath them. He knew trusting Ranma Saotome was the worst idea of all times, but when he was almost convincing himself on hating Ranma all over again, the memory of the overheard conversation between Ranma and Akane mercilessly pounded his mind.

'I loved him even back then, and I couldn't deal with that. And then I lied to you, because I couldn't see myself as the fucking pervert who liked a boy instead of my girl.'

It wasn't like if he didn't feel that way, right? After all, he did consider doing the same to Akari, didn't he?

"But you couldn't" His conscious voice said to himself. "Supposing what Ranma said is true, you couldn't use Akari the way he used Akane."

'You were trying to win him' Akane's resounded on his memory, and that other part of him – the one who tried to make him see Ranma was nothing but trouble – said she was right. Even if Saotome were obsessed about him, he would be nothing more than a challenge, a prize – something he'd quickly lose interest on as soon as the challenge was over.

But the part of him with a penchant for dreadful ideas was relentless on the possibility of having his attention like that, and was more than willing to concede him victory as long as he could feel Ranma touching him again. That was, of course, the part of him who was just as obsessed with Ranma as he was obsessed with him himself.

He really should obsess about something else. Like his job, for an example, but at that thought he clicked his tongue – his moping and longing could work wonders on the melancholic side of his shoots.

"Might as well try to find something to put on my mind, instead of this shit"; he muttered to himself as he headed out of his room to find John or Yuri and try to engage on some small talk. However, as he found both of them on John's room sipping some beer and watching sports on TV, fate kicked him on the teeth again as he saw what exactly they were watching: Mixed Martial Arts tournament, presenting no one else than Ranma Saotome fighting some other top-name of the Japanese Pro circuit. Before he could leave the room, Yuri yanked him to sit down with them and watch it. And, of course, they didn't know all the details about what had happened to him on the past months he spent seeing Ranma in disguise.

Just his luck, really.

"Isn't he Akane's ex-husband?" Yuri asked him, while John was being markedly annoying while flattering Ranma's prowess as the Heir of the Tendo-Saotome Mixed Martial Arts School. Ryoga couldn't bring himself to do anything but nod.

Just to hear Yuri muttering through his teeth "Man, isn't he a smoking hot cutie pie."

He damn well knew he had an incalculable debt to Yuri, but he was really hard pressed on controlling himself not to make him spit his bloodied teeth on the floor – a sense of jealousy that had no place to be at all.

First round was on, and his attention was captured not for the expected brilliancy of the Man Among Men – which he was witness since they used to spar together when Ranma was pretending to be his old training buddy – but for the exact opposite: He wasn't fighting like him at all. Too much blocking, too little dodges, and an impressive amount of blows were getting past his defenses. Not like the guy he'd seen fighting like a force of nature, not even close.

Some hard blows went through and connected to his ribs and other blows connected to his face, splitting his eyebrow open; and as the ref called the round off a close on his face could plainly show the lack of the ever present cocky gleam on his eyes along with the bruises. Seeing a handsome face as Ranma's taking that kind of abuse and the rather wounded look on his eyes should make him feel somewhat better, especially when he was prone to do it himself not long ago. But now, as he literally saw it happening by someone else's hands, he couldn't help his chest dwelling on a gloomy urge to be there and help him out. If not to stop it, to go there and soothe his wounds the better he could.

How pathetic, right? As if Ranma needed some kind of protection, as if he deserved that coming from him…

Saotome did react, though, but out of sheer anger that made him take even more blows in order to knock his opponent out. Which he did, and he got his victory just as he always did; so how he did it shouldn't be that important if the ends justified the means, right?

He knew that anger, all too well. But it didn't matter, nothing from Ranma did, and he was starting to get even more pissed on himself than he already was. Why should it matter if the ever cocky glint of his eyes was gone? Why should it matter if the slightly cruel grin of haughtiness was there no more? Ranma deserved that. That and even more for what he did to him; hadn't he once vowed to destroy his happiness?

His eyes closed slowly while he was choking back tears he wouldn't cry in front of John and Yuri, and the TV kept ranting on and on and on about the Man Among Men.

OOO

The car dropped him at the front door of his building, helping him out with his luggage and some trinkets he bought as souvenirs to his friends and to stuff his place with. He spent what, almost two months away? He could have come back way earlier, but he wanted to wander a little before coming home. He would have to, sooner or later. In this particular case, though, better later than sooner.

However, the time had come.

After a long journey to warm his cold heart, Ryoga Hibiki was home.

And his heart was just as cold as before.

He carried his things to the elevator, to then get himself a quick bath to head to the studio. Even for that little while being at his home was hard, his room still evocated too much memories of him. Or 'her', whatever.

The both forms of Ranma Saotome kept haunting him wherever he'd go.

But he still had work to do, right? He didn't make himself top of his game slacking off while moping for someone who clearly didn't deserve him to. As much as he kept hurting, life had to go on one way or another.

On his way back home after yet another dull day at the studio, the doorman handed him a small package, saying that someone left it for him some weeks ago. It had no sender, not even his name on addressee, but the man was positive it was his. At home, he opened the package to find inside a small black notebook with no engravings or marks of identification. However, a letter written in a ripped off page of the same notebook was tucked between the cover and the first page. And he knew that handwriting, it didn't change much from their years of Junior High.

He wanted to throw it away, but he couldn't stop his fingers from unfolding the paper. And he couldn't stop his eyes to wander through those lines.

__'I know I'm the very last person you'd like to hear from. I will respect that and I promise not to come for you again, if that's what you want me to do._ _

__However, there's something you never heard from me on all those years we've met each other. I said you many things - lies, jokes, pranks, insults, remarks, even the truth; but never an apology._ _

__I am sorry for the way I treated you back in Junior High. I know those lunchtimes were a war, but now I know my hunger didn't entitle me to stomp on you to benefit myself._ _

__I am sorry I knocked you at that cursed spring. It was completely unintentional, but I could have paid attention on my surroundings while chasing my father, and I let my own situation overcome the danger I've put other people around me in such a dangerous place like Jusenkyo._ _

__I am sorry for the times I pretended to be your fiancée, your sister, some love interest or some girl to get you to give me something I wanted and that was on your possession, like the Jusenkyo soap, the Japanese Nannichuan map, or just to meddle between you and Akane. Most of the times it was precisely what I was trying to do, despite all my brags and my refusal to lay proper claim on her as my fiancée. Instead, I kept saying I didn't care about you both while I tried to fool and ridicule you in front of her eyes, because I was hellbent on not showing any signs of weaknesses. Then I made fun of you, because if everyone saw you as a directionless fool, maybe they wouldn't pay attention on my flaws. It came to change eventually, even before I found myself attracted to you as I should be to Akane, but I never said a word about how bad I treated you, letting my silence as enough._ _

__And, at last, I am so sorry for pretending to be Kaori to date you. I let my feelings and my own perceptions about how I wanted you blind me and entitle me to think I could find a way out of this, make you understand you belonged by my side, not anyone else's._ _

__I was horribly wrong, and I am sorry it took me so many years and a situation like this to realize the depths of my mistakes. When all I can do is hope you don't find it too late._ _

__Also, I'd like you to have something from me._ _

__I am not asking you to read it, or put yourself in my shoes and forgive me. And the gods know I am not the kind of guy who's used to write personal stuff on a journal. But as I wrote - trying to ease the burden of my mistakes and maybe find myself - I also found something else._ _

__In these words, I found you. How you changed me, either by your presence or by the memory of you. What you mean to me, under the weight of my flaws and my mistakes._ _

__It belongs to you now, to do whatever you please.'_ _

_OOO_

* * *

To the footnotes and author rambled reports:

Well, this one is a rather short chapter for my standards, but I hope you guys like it anyway.

And just as always... Stay tuned!

* * *

Human Being, 06/30/2014


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